ft 


V 


ETHICS   OF   SPINOZA 


SPINOZA 


A    HANDBOOK    TO    THE    ETHICS 


BY 


J.    ALLANSON    PICTON 


NEW  YORK 

E.   P.   DUTTON  AND   COMPANY 

1907 


/  M 


Edinburgh  :  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 


TO  THE  BRIGHT  MEMORY  OF 

HERBERT    AND    ALICE    MAUD    RIX 

NOW  AND  ALWAYS  ONE  IN  THE  ETERNAL  LIFE 
THIS  BOOK  IS  INSCRIBED 


255129 


PREFACE 

The  aim  of  this  work  is  practical ;  that  is  to  say,  I 
have  endeavoured  to  avoid  discussing  the  philosophy 
of  Spinoza  more  than  is  absolutely  necessary  to  an 
understanding  of  his  moral  code.  For  ever  since  I 
became  a  humble  student  of  his  works  I  have  had  a 
growing  impression  that  a  rich  vein  of  common -sense 
and  sound  morality  runs  through  all  his  speculations, 
though  it  has  often  to  be  digged  for  as  hidden  treasure. 
But  the  fashion  of  his  writing  was  determined  in  large 
measure  by  the  customs  of  seventeenth-century  philo- 
sophy, and  he  addressed  himself  only  to  those  who  were 
familiar  with  them.  The  result  is  that  in  our  time, 
when  the  decay  of  old  traditions  makes  a  clearer  view 
of  the  foundation  of  morals  a  matter  of  supreme  im- 
portance, we  lose  the  immense  benefit  of  his  moral  and 
religious  teaching  because  we  are  perplexed  both  by  his 
use  of  familiar  words,  such  as  '  God '  and  '  eternity '  and 
'mind'  and  'body,'  in  senses  to  which  we  are  not 
accustomed;  and  we  are  also  repelled  by  his  artificial 
method  of  so-called  'mathematical  proof.'  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  relieve  these  difficulties  by  a  plain 
b  vii 


viii  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

exposition  which  always  keeps  in  view  the  moral  and 
religious,  rather  than  the  intellectual  value  of  the  great 
Master's  teaching.  And  to  make  the  exposition  clearer 
I  have  not  hesitated  to  introduce  '  modern  instances 5 
to  show  the  concrete  significance  of  apparently  abstract 
principles. 

My  indebtedness  to  the  great  and  exhaustive  treatise 
of  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  on  Spinoza,  His  Life  and 
Philosophy,  can  hardly  be  sufficiently  acknowledged.  But 
I  trust  it  is  evident  in  the  following  pages.  Still  my 
own  experience  suggests  that,  for  those  who  are  specially 
interested  in  the  religious  evolution  of  our  own  day, 
there  is  needed  a  '  Handbook  to  the  Ethics '  which  shall 
keep  that  evolution  specially  in  view.  This  I  have 
endeavoured  to  supply,  measuring  the  wants  of  others 
by  my  own  needs. 

As  will  be  evident,  I  have  continually  compared  my 
own  translations  of  Spinoza's  Latin — (edition  of  Van 
Vloten  et  Land) — with  the  admirable  work  of  W.  Hale 
White  and  Amelia  H.  Stirling.  I  have  ventured  often 
to  differ  from  their  rendering,  and  sometimes  I  have 
preferred  to  paraphrase  the  original.  But  my  debt  of 
obligation  is  the  same. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Part      I.  Concerning  God 1 

„          Appendix 39 

Part     II.  The  Nature  and  Origin  of  the  Mind       .         .  50 

Part  III.  The  Origin  and  Nature  of  Mental  Affections  83 

„  Appendix— Definitions  of  the  Mental  Affec- 

tions— Introductory  Remarks  .        .        .10 

Part  IV.  The  Bondage  of  Man 127 

Part    V.  The  Power  of  the  Intellect  ;  or,  The  Freedom 

of  Man I81 

Conclusion 2^1 


PAET  I 

CONCERNING   GOD 

Readers  of  Spinoza  often  experience  much  greater  diffi-  Difficulties 

in  reading 

culty  than  they  ought  to  find  in  making  out  his  meaning,  Spinoza 
because  they  bring  with  them  to  the  study  of  his  writings  by  bringing 
habits  of  thought  entirely  incongruous  with  his  system.  study  in- 
And  this  is  especially  the  case  with  his  '  Ethics.'     For  in  habftTof S 
his  various  tractates  on  somewhat  more  popular  subjects,  thousut- 
particularly  in  his  Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus,  one  of 
the  very  few  of  his  writings  printed  during  his  lifetime, 
he  so  far  condescended  to  the  mental  condition  of  his 
contemporaries  as  to  use  no  small  amount  of  conventional 
language.     Thus  readers  who  find  him  discussing  pro-  Not  so 
phecy  and  its  confirmation  by  signs,  or  revelation  and  ?n  the* 
inspiration,  feel  at  first  quite  at  home,  and  only  gradually  al\n  a,e 
discover  that  these  terms  must  to  him  have  had  a  very    *  1CS' 
different   meaning   from   that   familiar   in   ecclesiastical 
circles.     But  with  his  opus  magnum,  the  Ethics,  the  case 
is  entirely  different.     That  he  wrote  for  posterity  is  clear  Reasons 
from  the  fact  that  he  withheld  the  work  from  publication 
during  his  lifetime,  though  probably  even  he  had  no  idea 
of  the  remoteness  of   the   posterity  for  whom  he   was  The  Ethics 
writing.     Perhaps  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  arrived  posterity, 
yet,  notwithstanding  the  increasing  interest  shown  during 
the  past  half-century  both  in  the  man  and  his  ideas.     At 

A 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


any  rate  in  this  work  he  quite  abjured  any  such  conces- 
sions to  contemporary   conventions   of  thought   as   are 
found  in  his  other  writings,  and  gave  uncompromising 
utterance  to  the  results  of  his  solitary  contemplations  of 
man  and  the  universe, 
influence  of     Not  that  even  here  he  was  wholly  uninfluenced  by  his 
Ldtradi-    times  or  their  traditions.     For  no  such  miracle  as  an 
Ethics1 1  e  entirely  new  man  in  this  sense  has  ever  appeared — no, 
mainly' to    no^  even  ^n  ^he  a8es  °f  transition  from  anthropoids  to 
matters  of   anthropopithecus    and    anthropos.     But    the    traces    of 
tradition  and  convention  in  Spinoza's  greatest  work  are 
seen  mainly  in  matters  of  form.      Thus  the  idea  of  com- 
pressing the  whole  philosophy  of  the  universe  into  five 
E.g.  the      books  of  definitions,  postulates,  axioms,  propositions  and 
of  the10"      demonstrations,  arranged  after  the  manner   of  Euclid, 
form  of"1    seems  utterly  incongruous  both  with  the  physics  and  the 
andPdemon-  metaphysics  of  the  twentieth  century.      In  the  seven- 
stration.      teenth  century,  however,  though  the  plan  was  a  little 
startling  to  less  daring  minds,  it  did  not  seem  impossible. 
Reasons      And  the  reason  for  this  was  two-fold.      Firstly,  the  vast- 
adoption,     ness  of  the  universe  was  not  adequately  felt ;  and  next, 
the  difference  in  precision   between   doctrines  of  ideal 
space,  on  the  one  hand,  and  expressions  of  concrete  ex- 
perience on  the  other,  was  not  sufficiently  apprehended. 
Now  if  the  universe,  or  at  least  a  definite  portion  of  the 
universe,  including  man,  is   completely   commensurable 
with  the  human  intellect,  and  if  every  impression   re- 
ceived by  that  intellect  from  the  accessible  universe  is 
capable  of  as  precise  statement  as  our  ideal  notions  of 
space — such  as  point,  line,  superficies,  square,  circle,  and 
so  on — there  would  seem  to  be  no  reason  why  a  man  of 


CONCERNING  GOD  3 

very  exceptional  philosophic  genius  might  not  reduce  all 
our  relations  with  the  world  of  being  to  a  set  of  Euclidean 
propositions.  But  such  a  notion  of  existence  has  become 
impossible  to  us.  And  we  are  compelled  to  recognise,  in 
the  form  into  which  the  Ethics  was  cast,  the  influence  of 
an  age  in  which  the  general  outlook  on  the  world  was,  in 
some  important  respects,  entirely  incongruous  with  that 
of  our  own  time. 

There   are   other  seventeenth-century  conventions  of  other  in- 
form which  add  to  the  difficulties  of  an  average  twentieth-  seventeenth- 
century  reader.     But  the  instance  now  given  will  suffi-  convention 
ciently  illustrate  my  meaning  for  the  present ;  and  other  deferred- 
cases  will  be  better  considered  in  their  proper  places. 
All  the  more  so,  because  we  shall  sometimes  have  to  con- 
sider whether  the  difficulty  of  form  does  not  also  involve 
a  difficulty  of  substance.     And  here  it  may  be  well  to 
anticipate  so  far  as  to  say  that,  while  I  regard  Spinoza's 
doctrine  of  God,  Nature,  and  Man  as  in  its  essence  per-  Spinoza's 
manent   and   inexpugnable,   I   must   admit    that    some  etemSJ 
details  incidental  to  his  treatment  of  that  doctrine  would  ^ta§s  of 
have  been  felt  by  him  to  be  not  only  intolerable  but  im-  ^{h^ 
possible,  had  he  lived  in  the  present  a<*e.     These  details  liave  been 

r  '  .  ?  temporary. 

however,  now  generally  recognised  as  impossible,  do  not 
occur  in  his  moral  system,  which  is  singularly  noble  and 
complete,  but  rather  in  the  attempt  to  work  out  an 
intellectual  system  of  the  universe  from  two  .alleged 
1  attributes '  of  the  Infinite,  said  to  be  the  only  ones  known 
to  us  out  of  an  absolutely  unlimited  number. 

■^  t  i  -i  •  i        •  M1    i  The  present 

Erom  the  above  preliminary  remarks  it  will  be  seen  essay  an 
that  I  regard  the  average  reader's  difficulty  in  under- to  meet 
standing  Spinoza's  Ethics  as  arising  partly  from  our  in-  cuiJies,  by 


4  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

veterate  habit  of  assuming  that  such  terms  as  God, 
Eternity,  Good,  Evil,  and  many  others  are  used  by  him  in 
the  sense  which  we  have  learned  in  Church  or  Sunday- 
school  to  attach  to  them.  But  partly  also  the  difficulty 
is  caused  by  the  admittedly  unfortunate  form  in  which 
the  great  work  is  cast,  and  also  by  the  comparative 
dispensing  remoteness  of  seventeenth-centurv  mental  habits  from 

with  the  J 

Euclidean    our   own.      I  propose,  so  far  as  I  can,  to  meet  these 

form, 

omitting  difficulties  by  giving  a  precis  of  the  Ethics  dissociated 
of  proof,  from  the  Euclidean  form  and  set  forth  in  language  which, 
ing  to  the    if  not  metaphysically  exact,  may  at  least  enable  readers 

common-  c        -, .  .    ,    ».  ,  ,, 

sense  of  ordinary  intelligence  to  grasp  the  common-sense  con- 

,s  ance-    victions  forming  the  basis  and  main  structure  of  Spinoza's 

Title-page,  religion.  Here  then  is  the  title-page  rendered  from  the 
edition  of  Van  Vloten  and  Land  :  '  Ethics,  Proved  on  the 
Geometrical  Method,  and  divided  into  Five  Parts ; 
wherein  is  treated — I.  Of  God;  II.  Of  Nature  and  the 
Origin  of  Mind ;  III.  Of  the  Origin  and  Nature  of  the 
Passions  ;  IV.  Of  Human  Bondage,  or  of  the  Power  of 
the  Passions  ;  V.  Of  the  Might  of  the  Intellect,  or  of 
Human  Freedom.' 

Meaning  of  And  first  it  may  be  observed  that  by  '  Ethics '  Spinoza 
meant  much  more  than  is  usually  understood  by  that 
word.  For  whereas  we  generally  mean  by  it  the  principles 
of  social  duty  as  between  man  and  man,  individual  or 
collective,  Spinoza  included  in  it  the  whole  relations  of 
the  individual  to  the  universe  of  which  he  forms  part. 
It  was  therefore  necessary  for  him  to  set  forth,  not  only 
his  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  as  between  members  of  the 
human  family,  but  also  the  eternal  nature  and  constitu- 
tion of  the  universe  as  conceived  by  him.     Therefore  he 


CONCERNING  GOD  5 

begins  with  a  book  or  section  '  concerning  God.'    And  here 
occurs  the  first  and  one  of  the  chief  difficulties  of  the 
Ethics.    For  no  one  brought  up  on  Paley,  Clarke,  or  their  Assump- 
successors  and  imitators,  can  make  out  what  Spinoza  is  being  of 1 
driving  at  in  his  Eleventh  Proposition  of  Book  I.,  which 
reads  as  follows :  '  God,  or  substance  (involving) x  infinite 
attributes  of  which  every  one  expresses  an  eternal  and 
infinite  essence,  of  necessity  exists.'     And  the  main  demon- 
stration does  not  help  us,  referring  as  it  does  to  a  previous 
axiom  and  proposition  belonging  entirely  to  the  realms  of 
abstract  thought,  and  not  of  experience.     But  one  of  the  Apparent 
alternative  demonstrations  does  help  us  a  little,  because  of  the 
it  rests  in  part  at  least  on  experience  of  our  own  exist-  arriving 
ence.     Thus, '  either  nothing  exists,  or  a  Being  absolutely  impression" 
infinite  exists  of  necessity.     But '  (as  a  matter  of  fact)  JesTres  to6 
1  we  exist,  either  in  and  by 2  ourselves,  or  in  and  by prove- 
something  else,  which  exists  of  necessity.'      Here  the 
meaning  flashes  upon  us.     For  Spinoza  is  not  trying  to 
prove  the  existence  of  a  personal  Creator  who  called  the 
worlds  out  of  nothing,  and  is  now  only  the  greatest  Being 
among  innumerable  others.     What  the  Master  means  is 
that  the  fact  of  our  present  existence  necessarily  involves 
previous  Being 3  in  and  by  which  we  are  what  we  are.  By  '  God  ■ 
The  inference  that  this  previous  Being  must  be  absolutely  the '  Uni- 
infinite  and  of  necessary  existence  may  appear  subtle.  But 

1  Constant  in  the  original.  But  the  literal  rendering  'consisting 
of,'  or  'consisting  in,'  scarcely  expresses  the  real  meaning. 

2  The  two  prepositions  seern  needed  to  express  the  full  sense  of 
Spinoza's  in  nobis,  in  alio. 

3  The  use  of  the  words  previous,  past,  future,  etc.,  is  practically 
necessaiy  in  speaking  of  human  experience.  But  such  use  must 
always  be  understood  subject  to  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  eternity,  as  will 
afterwards  appear. 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


A  modern- 
ised para- 
phrase of 
the  argu- 
ment. 


tflft  inde- 
pendent 
and  eternal 

existence 
of  anything 
finite  is  un- 
til ink  able. 


it  has  common-sense  at  the  back  of  it.  '  The  capacity 
for  non-existence  is  weakness,  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  capacity  for  existence  is  power.  If  therefore  what 
now  of  necessity  exists  is  nothing  but  finite  beings,  the 
finite  beings  must  be  mightier  than  absolutely  infinite 
Being.  But  this  is  absurd.'  Let  us  try  to  translate  it 
into  contemporary  modes  of  thought.  The  Infinite  of 
which  Spinoza  is  thinking  is  not  a  divine  Person,  en- 
throned somewhere  in  space  or  in  thought,  apart  from 
the  Universe,  but  the  Universe_  itself.  It  is  of  this  that 
He  alleges  absolute  infinity  and  necessary  existence — 
that  is,  existence  uncaused,  and  without  beginning  or 
end. 

Surely  we  may  now  feel  some  force  in  the  argument, 
at  least  if  we  drop  the  subtleties  about  'capacity  for 
existence  or  non-existence.'  For  it  is  mere  common- 
sense  to  assume  that  a  limited  number  of  finite  creatures 
— men,  beasts,  birds,  trees,  planets,  suns,  and  galaxies — 
could  not  independently  exist  isled  in  infinite  space  from 
eternity  to  eternity.  For  if  once  the  notion  of  finite 
independent  existence  be  allowed,  no  limit  can  be 
drawn  beneath  which  such  existence  becomes  unthink- 
able. Thus  if  the  independent  and  eternal  existence  of 
a  group  of  galaxies,  measuring  say  a  billion  or  a  trillion 
cubic  miles  in  extent,  be  conceivable,  then  no  reason  can 
be  given  why  the  independent  and  eternal  existence  of  a 
group  of  galaxies  measuring  only  a  million  cubic  miles 
should  be  unthinkable.  Nor,  so  far  as  conceivability  is 
concerned,  can  we  stop  there.  But  there  would  be  no 
reason  why  a  universe  measuring  only  a  hundred  cubic 
miles  should  not  be  conceivable  as  having  independent 


CONCEKNING  GOB  7 

and  external  existence.     And  so  we  might  come  down  to  For  if  it 

•  \V6T6     fl 

a  single  stone,  and  reasonably  maintain  that,  if  a  finite  Singi'e  stone 
universe  on  any  scale  be  thinkable  as  having  uncaused,  ^^  exist-6 
independent  existence  from  eternity  to  eternity,  then  a  ence" 
single  stone  might  be  capable  of  it. 

According  to  ordinary,  or,  using  the  word  in  no 
offensive  sense,  vulgar  modes  of  thought,  the  difficulty 
is  removed  by  making  the  finite  universe  to  depend  on 
an  Infinite  Cause.     But  this  of  course  admits  Spinoza's  The 

argument 

argument,  that   finite  existence  implies  Infinite  Being,  practically 

t     •  t  •  i  t  admitted  in 

It  is  only  the  application  that  is  different;  and  as  I  am  ordinary 
merely  trying  to  expound  Spinoza,  I  do  not  see  that  I  thought. 
have,  in  this  place  at  any  rate,  anything  to  do  with  that 
application.     It  is  enough  just  now  to  recognise  that  by 
common  consent  our  philosopher's  argument  is  endorsed, 
that  'either  nothing  exists   or  else   absolutely  infinite/  - 
Being  exists  of  necessity.'   This  last  phrase  '  of  necessity  i  Meaning  of 

'  necessity ' 

(necessario)  must  of  course  not  be  taken  to  mean  any  here, 
compelling  cause,  in  the  usual  sense  of  the  word. 
Spinoza  quite  agrees  with  the  humblest  Christian  that 
God  is  uncaused,  or,  as  he  sometimes  puts  it,  His  own 
cause.  In  other  words,  God  is  because  He  is,  and 
there,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  is  an  end  of  the 
matter. 

JSTow  having  noted  the  common  consent  of  humanity  Spinoza's 

application 

to    Spinoza's   argument,   when   rightly   understood,  and  of  the 

,  , .  .  .   .    .         ,  ,      common 

having  disowned  any   obligation   to   criticise   here   the  conviction, 
application  usually  made  by  theologians,  I  go  on  to  deal 
with  Spinoza's  own  application  of  it.     How  should  we 
think  of  this  '  absolutely  infinite  Being '  who  is  because 
He  is  ?     The  late  Herbert  Spencer  was  content  to  regard 


8  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Him  as  unknowable,  and  in  this  I  have  elsewhere *  main- 
tained   he  was  quite  right,  if  we  confine  ourselves  to 
Spencer's  phrase  'in  the  strict  sense  of  knowing.'     But 
Difference    Spinoza  thought  otherwise;  and  undoubtedly  he  was  a 

of  his  Aire 

and  transcendently  greater  man  than  Spencer.     Let  us  learn 

then  what  that  mighty  seer  of  the  seventeenth  century 
thought  we  could  know;  and  hereafter  let  us  note  in 
what  respects  his  thought  must  be  inevitably  modified 
by  the  age  of  enormously  developed  telescopes,  micro- 
scopes, and  transcendental  mathematics  in  which  Spencer 
lived. 

infinite  Spinoza,  then,  was  sure  that  as  our  own  finite  existence 

attributes      .  .  .  -i-ip 

and  modes,  implies  Infinite  and  Eternal  Being,  we  must  think  ot 
this  latter  as  substance  involving  infinite  attributes,  of 
which  each  several  attribute  expresses  His  infinite  and 

Spinoza's     essential  nature.     '  Substance '  he  has  already  defined  as 

iflpSi  of* 

'substance.'*  that  which  is  in  (and  by)  itself,  and  is  conceived  through 
itself  alone ;  otherwise,  that  of  which  the  conception  does 
not  need  any  other  conception  from  which  it  has  to  be 
shaped.'  Now  at  first  sight  there  might  appear  to  be  a 
difficulty  here.     For,  at  least  to  common-sense,  a  simple 

Apparent    colour  such  as  blue  or  red  does  not  need  the  help  of  any- 

difficulties.  .     i  J 

thing  else  to  clear  up  or  define  our  sense  of  it.  In  fact, 
it  cannot  be  defined  except  by  methods  of  optical  science 
which  have  no  bearing  whatever  on  our  conscious  im- 
pression. There  is  no  relation  realisable  in  consciousness 
between  the  alleged  scientific  fact  that  blue  light  means 
some  seven  hundred  billion  etherial  vibrations  in  a 
second,  and  our  perception  of  blue.  No ;  but  at  the  same 
time  we  all  recognise  blue  as  a  quality  of  something, 

1  lieliijion  of  the  Universe,  Macmillan  and  Co. 


CONCERNING  GOD  9 

though  that  something  may,  as  in  the  case  of  the  blue 
sky  or  Mediterranean  water,  remain  unknown  to  the 
majority  of  those  on  whom  the  impression  of  colour  is 
made.  Still,  though  the  observer  may  not  know  to  what 
the  quality  belongs,  he  is  sure  that  it  is  a  quality,  and 
not  a  substance.  Whether  the  colour  be  in  the  observer 
himself  (subjective)  or  in  the  external  world  (objective), 
in  any  case  it  is  a  quality  and  not  a  substance. 

Returning  to  Spinoza's  definition  of  substance,  I  find  Really 

.     equivalent 

it  much  more  akm  to  Spencers  idea  of  the  Unknowable  to  Spencer's 
than  orthodox  Spinozists  would   be  prepared  to  allow,  able. 
For  after  all,  the  definition  is  and  must  be  reached,  in 
the  case  of  ordinary  people,  by  a  process  of  larger  and 
larger  generalisations,  such  as  Spencer  gives  us  in  his 
First  Principles.1  These  generalisations  are  thus  summed 
up   in   the   concluding   words    of    the   chapter   on   the 
relativity  of  all  knowledge  (p.  83):  'On  watching  our 
thoughts  we  have  seen  how  impossible  it  is  to  get  rid 
of  the  consciousness  of  an  Actuality  lying  behind  Ap- 
pearances ;  and  how  from  this  impossibility  results  our 
indestructible  belief  in  that  Actuality.'  Happily,  Spinoza 
does   not   speak   of   God   as    lying   behind  appearances. 
Otherwise    Spencer's  '  Actuality '   and    Spinoza's   '  Sub- 
stance' are  obviously  the   same   thing   under   different 
names.     Nor  is  this  identity  in  the  least  disproved  by 
the   different   methods  of  the   two   philosophers  in  ap- 
proaching the  ultimate  reality.     For  though  Spinoza,  in  The  differ- 
his  abstract  way,  thinks  it  enough  to  say  curtly  that  formal  and 
Substance — or  ultimate  Actuality — is  that  which  is  in  nc 
(and  by)  itself,  and  is  conceived  through  itself,  or  does 

1  P.  81,  sixth  edition. 


tions  the 
method  of 
conmion- 
sense. 


10  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

not  need  the  conception  of  any  other  tlnng  from  which 
it  has  to  be  shaped ;  yet,  as  I  have  said,  by  ordinary 
mortals  who  have  not  the  brains  of  a  Spinoza,  such  a 
conception — so  far  as  it  is  a  conception  at  all — can  only 
be  reached  by  increasing  circles  of  generalisation  that 
Spinoza's     widen  out  to  infinity.   Thus  all  things  that  make  sensible 
U  the  10      impressions  on  us  are  summed  up  as  '  matter.'     But  this 
o7g?nius;   matter  is  not  thought  or  conceived  without  the  help  of 
geueraiisl-  something  else  not  classed  as  matter,  as  for  instance  con- 
sciousness, or  thought  of  weight  and  mass.      Similarly, 
consciousness  or  thought  as  a  general  expression  is  the 
last  expanding  circle  of  a  series  of  generalisations  from 
But  neither  individual  acts  of  thought.     But  the  finally  generalised 

generalised  .  .  . 

matter  nor  conception   of   thought   or   consciousness  does  not   and 
mind*  *  '    cannot  answer  to    Spinoza's  definition  of  Substance  as 
Spinoza's     that  the  conception  of  which  does  not  need  to  be  helped 
Substance?*  ^  ^ie  conception  of  anything  else.    For  it  could  not  be 
conceived  at  all  except  by  the  help  of  the  innumerable 
impressions  from  without,  which  have  evolved  the  in- 
dividual mind  and  suggested  the  generalisation  supposed 
to  include  the  experience  of  all  other  minds.     Neither 
matter  then,  nor  mind — however  we  may  interpret  the 
words — is   Substance,   according    to    the    definition    of 
Spinoza. 

But  what  relation  have  the  two  series  of  material  and 
mental  generalisations  to  each  other?  Are  they  utterly 
distinct,  alien,  and  foreign  to  each  other  ?  There  have 
Spinoaa's  been  philosophers  who  have  thought  so.  But  Spinoza 
is  that  of  was  not  of  them,  neither  was  Spencer;  and  each  suc- 
matterand  cessive  generation  of  thinkers  seems  on  the  whole  to 
i"ressions\  '  become  more  intolerant  of  so  grotesque  a  doctrine.     We 


CONCERNING  GOD  11 

need  not  therefore  dwell  upon  it.  But  if  these  two 
series  of  generalised  conceptions  are  not  alien  to  one 
another,  the  only  conclusion  possible  is  that  they  merge 
in  some  unity  of  which  each  is  a  various  expression. 
Now  that  final  unity  is  Spencer's  ultimate  Actuality, 
and  it  is  also  Spinoza's  Substance. 

But  there  is  a  very  marked  difference  between  the 
greater  philosopher  and  the  less  as  to  the  intelligibility 
of  this  ultimate  '  Actuality.'  For  while  Spinoza,  in  the 
serene  confidence  of  his  cloudless  contemplations,  is 
perfectly  certain  that  he  has  an  adequate  idea  of  Sub-  Apparent 

contradic- 

stance,  Spencer's  ultimate  Actuality  is,  for  the  later  tion 
philosopher,  identical  with  that  Unknowable,  which  '  no 
man  hath  seen  nor  can  see.'  Surely  here  is  an  absolute 
contradiction  entailing  the  cou sequence  that  either  these 
great  thinkers  must  both  be  wrong,  or  one  of  them  right 
and  the  other  mistaken. 

Yet  the  contradiction  is  not  so  absolute,  nor  is  the  not  so  real 

.  -r,       .  .  ,      ,  as  it  looks. 

consequence  so  inevitable  as  it  looks,     lor  in  the  ideal 
world,  with  which  Spinoza  mostly  deals  until  he  comes  Spinoza 
to  treat  of  human  nature,  his  definition  of  Substance  is  reai  in  the 
quite  as  clear  as  Euclid's  definition  of  a  point,  a  line,  or  a 
circle.     Modern   innovators   are   needlessly   officious   in 
assuring  us  that  neither  point   nor   line,   according   to 
Euclid's  definition,  has  any  existence  in  the  external  or 
finite  world,  and  that  to  the  circle  only  a  rough  approxi- 
mation can  be  obtained.     But  for  all  that  Euclid's  con- 
ceptions of  ideal  space  remain  certain  and  impregnable. 
Moreover,  they  remain  the    spiritual    principles   which  as  Euclid. 
are  '  clothed  upon '  by  more  materialistic  geometry  and 
mensuration. 


12 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


The  de- 
finition of 
Substance 
is  true  in 
the  sense 
that 
Euclid's 
definitions 
are  true. 


v\ 


No  real 
contradic- 
tion. 


Somewhat  in  the  same  way,  Spinoza,  contemplating 
Eternal  Being,  of  which  space  or  extension  seemed  to 
him  only  one  attribute  out  of  innumerable  others,  gives 
a  definition  of  Substance  which  in  the  world  of  ideas  is 
obviously  true,  though  when  we  grope  after  it  in  the 
world  of  sense  we  never  find  it.  Yet  though  we  never 
find  it  so  as  to  grasp  it  with  the  hands  or  behold  it  with 
the  eyes  or  realise  it  with  the  practical  understanding, 
still  amongst  the  spiritual  principles  which  evolve  an 
intelligible  universe,  Spinoza's  definition  of  substance 
must  ever  remain  impregnable.  (For  substance  is  surely 
that  beyond  which  we  cannot  go  in  thought,  which  can 
be  referred  to  no  wider  genus,  which  requires  the  help  of 
no  other  conception  to  frame  our  thought  of  it,  because 
it  is  in  and  by  itself,  and  includes  everything  by  which 
we  would  explain  it.  ,  Intellectually,  ideally,  it  is  per- 
fectly plain.  Only  when  we  ask  where  it  is  in  the  work- 
a-day  world  do  we  get  no  answer  except  this,  that  it  is 
everywhere  and  nowhere.  Not  that  by  the  last  word  we 
need  admit  any  unreality.  But  obviously  that  which  is 
all  in  all  cannot  be  in  a  particular  spot.  It  is  the  whole 
Universe. 

We  need  not  therefore  admit  any  real  contradiction 
between  Spencer's  ultimate  Actuality  and  Spinoza's 
Substance.  At  the  same  time  we  are  bound  to  acknow- 
ledge some  obvious  differences,  and  these  are  not  in  favour 
of  the  more  modern  philosopher.  For  while  Spencer 
perpetually  speaks  of  the  ultimate  Actuality  as  being 
'  behind '  the  things  we  see  and  feel,  Spinoza  treats  his 
Substance  as  an  infinite  Whole,  of  which  the  seen  and 
felt  Universe  presents  us  with  an   infinite  number  of 


CONCERNING  GOD  13 

finite  aspects.  Again,  the  special  purpose  of  Spencer 
to  deal  only  with  phenomenal  evolution  compelled  him 
to  clear  out  of  his  course  at  the  outset  certain  ultimate 
questions  with  which  he  did  not  intend  to  concern  him- 
self, thus  giving  the  unfortunate  and  unjust 1  impression  Spencer 

&         °  .  .       misunder- 

that  for  him  the  Unknowable  was   something   outside  stood. 

the  practical  world  and,  in  fact,  negligible.     For  Spinoza, 

on  the  contrary,  Eternal  Substance  was  the  beginning,  Spinoza  the 

plainer  in 

middle,  and  end  of  his  whole  religion  and  morality.  It  dealing 
was  never  absent  from  his  thoughts,  contemplations,  things. 
aspirations,  or  moral  struggles.  It  gave  meaning,  reality, 
order,  and  peace  to  life.  It  could  not,  indeed,  solve  the 
enigmas  that  have  baffled  saint  and  seer  alike.  But  it 
could  impose  upon  him  a  humble  sense  of  the  'inadequate 
ideas '  which  perplex  any  man  who  takes  a  part  for  the 
whole,  or  judges  a  picture  by  some  obscure  spot  in  it  on 
which  his  inquisitive  eyeglass  is  fixed. 

We  approach  more  popular  notions  of  reality  when  we 
turn  to  consider  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  Attributes,  f  For,  Attributes 
as  we  have  seen,  in  Spinoza's  view  God  is  absolute  Sub-  stance, 
stance,  that  is,  Substance  endowed  with  infinite  Attributes 
of  which  each  one  expresses  eternal  and  infinite  being 
(essentiqm).}  Now  it  is  precisely  here  that  both  Spencer's 
ultimate  Actuality  and  Spinoza's  Substance  come  within 
our  ken  bv  presenting  phenomena.     '  By  an  attribute,'  in  what 

J    r  °    r  J  sense  they 

says  the  latter, c  I  understand  that  which  the  understand-  express 
ing  perceives  as  constituting  its  essence '  (i.e.  of  substance). 

1  Unjust  to  himself,  because  he  thought  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  as  is 
abundantly  shown  in  his  chapter  on  '  Reconciliation,'  and  also  in 
every  case  where  he  has  to  deal  with  the  notion  that  man  can  ever 
dispense  with  religion,  or  that  any  object  of  religion  can  be  substi- 
tuted for  that  which  is  'behind  humanity  and  behind  all  other  things.' 


14 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


illustrated 
by  exten- 
sion. 


Measure- 
ments of 
extension 
always 
verifiable. 


There  is  a  difficulty  in  these  last  words  ;  but  I  do  not 
think  I  can  be  far  wrong  in  suggesting  that  what  Spinoza 
means  by ■  constituting  its  essence '  or  being,  is  practically 
equivalent  to  constituting  its  reality  as  apprehended  by 
us.  Now  by  '  reality '  is  not  meant  here  that  beyond 
which  we  cannot  go  in  thought,  but  that  which  remains 
through  all  phenomenal  changes,  and  of  which  our  care- 
ful observations  with  their  legitimate  inferences  are 
always  verifiable. 

For  instance,  Spinoza  regards  extension  as  an  attribute 
of  the  divine  Substance.1  That  is  to  say,  it  expresses  or' 
makes  cognisable  to  us  His  eternal  and  infinite  essence. 
On  this  ground  many  have  hastily  accused  Spinoza  of 
gross  materialism.  But,  as  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  has 
shown,  his  error,  say  rather  his  difference  from  the 
inevitable  tendency  of  opinion  in  later  days,  is  of  a  very 
different  character,  as  we  shall  presently  see.  Meantime 
let  us  only  note  that  Extension  expresses  for  us  the 
infinite  essence  or  reality  of  God  because  it  remains  amid 
all  phenomenal  changes ;  and  our  careful  observations  of 
it,  whether  to  our  experience  subjective  or  objective, 
together  with  our  legitimate  inferences  from  those  careful 
observations,  are  always  verifiable.  Thus  the  triangula- 
tion  of  a  country  by  an  accurate  surveyor  can  always  be 
verified  again  though  the  superficies  (phenomena)  of  the 
country  may  have  greatly  changed.  Pi  vers  may  have 
altered  their  course,  volcanoes  may  have  subsided,  and 
lakes  may  have  been  dried  up.     But  nevertheless  a  suffi- 


1  A  good  deal  of  what  immediately  follows  is  an  anticipation  of 
Book  II.,  Of  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Mind.  But  the  transposition 
seems  needful  for  the  purpose  I  have  in  view. 


CONCERNING  GOD  15 

ciently  skilled  person  will  have  little  or  no  difficulty  in 
verifying  the   measurements   and    area    found    by  the 
previous  accurate  survey.     For  though  modifications  of 
extension,  such  as  heights  and  depths  and  shapes,  may 
have  changed,  the  extension  itself  is  still  there — it  is  a 
reality.     Similarly  of  ideal  space  we  may  say  that  careful  And  the 
mental  observations  and  the  legitimate  inferences  there-  ideal  space 
from  are  always  verifiable.  The  skilled  surveyor's  measure-  beVerified! 
ments  by  triangulation  assume   always   that  the  three 
angles  of  every  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles. 
And  any  one  who  wants  verification  can  have  it,  either 
roughly  and  imperfectly  by  the  use  of  instruments  applied 
to  visible  and  tangible  triangles,  or  purely  and  perfectly 
by  mathematical  demonstration  dealing  with  ideal  space. 

Such  is  the  '  Extension '  which  Spinoza  treats  as  one  of 
the  infinite  attributes  of  God.  But  being  infinite,  it  is 
not  measurable1  in  miles  or  feet  or  inches.  And  if  it 
occurs  to  the  reader  that  we  have  just  now  been  illustrat- 
ing its  reality  by  the  possibility  of  verification  through 
measurement,  the  reply  is  that  Spinoza  regards  the  infmity  0f 
infinite  attributes  of  God  as  subject  to.  an  infinity  of extenslon 
finite  modes  or  modifications.  •  It  is  only  these  finite 
modifications  that  can  be  measured.  But  still  the  unfail- 
ing possibility  of  verification  proves  reality.  And  if  it 
be  asked,  then  why  call  extension  infinite  ?  I  might  be 
content  with  replying  that  I  am  but  expounding  Spinoza; 
though  not  always  as  a  '  Spiirozist.'  Yet  on  this  point  it 
may  be  urged  that  if  once  the  idea  of  extension  arises, 
the  non-existence  of  any  possible  limit  follows  as  a 
matter  of  course.     Eor- -however  a  man  may  try  to  think 

1  I.e.  in  itself.     It  is  only  its  finite  modes  that  are  measurable. 


16  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

of  space  as  bounded,  the  question  what  is  outside  the 
bound  necessarily  arises,  and  the  inevitable  answer  is 
space. 

subject  to        But  it  is  only  in  its  finite  modes  or  modifications  that 

of  modlfica.  extension  is  an  object  of  experience.  And  though  this 
fact  does  not  in  the  least  degree  invalidate  the  connection 
of  the  idea  of  extension  with  unlimited  (or  infinite)  space, 
it  forms  practically  the  whole  content  of  our  cognition  of 
God's  attribute  of  extension.     For  everything  that  we  see 

form,  or  feel,  whether  on  earth  or  in  the  heavens,  is  a  finite 

mode  or  modification  of  that  divine  attribute  of  extension. 

motion,  So  likewise  is  motion,  as  it  is  a  transference  of  something 
through  extension  or  space.  It  is  only  by  this  inclusion 
of  motion  in  the  '  modes '  of  extension  that  we  can  con- 
ceive how  Spinoza  brought  the  whole  so-called  '  material' 

colour,  universe  within  the  attribute  of  extension.  For  colour 
and  sound  and  scent  and  feeling  are  not  obviously  modes 
of  extension.  But  conceive  them  as  modes  of  motion, 
which  is  the  general  theory  in  our  day,  and  their  inclu- 

weight.  sion  becomes  simple.  Nay,  even  weight,  whether  realised 
as  a  pull  or  as  a  pressure,  may  be  conceived  as  motion 
striving  to  realise  itself,  and  so  falls  under  the  same 
attribute  of  extension.  I  am  not  urging  the  importance 
of  such  subtleties,  because  it  will  be  seen  presently  they 
vanish  in  the  more  spiritual  air  of  Spinoza's  higher 
philosophy.  But  there  is  some  profit  in  trying  to  see  the 
'  material '  world  as  he  saw  it.1  ^For  to  his  contemplative 

1  Tennyson,  in  his  Higher  Pantheism,  has  to  a  certain  extent  set 
forth  this  vision  for  us,  as  only  a  poet  can.  But  Spinoza  did  not 
insist  upon  illusion  as  Tennyson,  in  this  poem,  does.  The  former 
thought  that  he  saw  the  world  as  it  is,  and  not  as  '  a  straight  staff 
bent  in  a  pool.' 


CONCERNING  GOD  17 

spirit  everything  in   what  we   call  the  external   world, 
including  our  own  bodies,  was  a  mode  of  God's  attribute  Spinoza's 

a  i      i    •      mode  of 

oi  extension,     bun,  moon  and  stars,  mountain  and  plain,  conceiving 

river  and  ocean,  forest  and  flower,  bird  and  beast,  storm  and  tang- 

and  thunder,  as  well  as  rainbow,  all  were  modes  of  the1  ewor 

one  aspect  or  attribute  of  eternal  God.     They  were  always 

changing  because  finite  modes    are  necessarily  variable 

at  least  to  finite  apprehension.     But  however  they  might 

be  transformed  and  interchanged,  they  remained  for  ever 

in  all  their  apparently  successive  forms,  the  finite  modes 

of  one  eternal  attribute  of  God. 

According   to   our   teacher,  this   infinite  attribute  of  The  Attri- 
butes in- 
extension  is  only  one  out  of  innumerable  Attributes,  all  numerable,  %/ 

of  them  expressing  some  aspect  of  God's  eternal  and  two  cognis- 
infinite  essence,  or   reality.    ( But   of   these   Attributes, a 
only  two  are  cognisable  by  the  human  intellect.     With 
one  of  these  we  have  already  dealt,  that  of  Extension,  and 
the  one  remaining  to  be  considered  is  that  of  Thought 
(cogitatio).)    It  is    clear  that  by  this   he   cannot  mean  The  second 
discursive  thought.    For  one  of  the  fundamental  elements 
of  his  system  is  the  superiority  of  God  to  time  or  dura- 
tion, and  consequently  to  succession  in  thought.      He 
seems  to  have  used   the  word   in  Descartes'   sense   of 
what  we  may  call  '  awareness.'    Of  everything  that  passes 
within  our  conscious  selves  we  have  a  perception.     But 
whether  the  object  of  the  perception  be  a  sense-impres-  its  signifi- 
sion,  a  train  of  reasoning,  an  imagination,  or  a  passion, 
it  is  included  by  Descartes  under  cogitatio,  or  thought; 
and  Spinoza  followed  him. 

Perhaps  it  might  occur  to  beginners  in  Spinoza-study  more  than 
that  '  consciousness '  would  be  a  better  word.      But,  to  ness.' 


18  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

say  nothing  of  the  difficulty  of  finding  in  Latin  an  exact 
equivalent  for  what  Spinoza  meant,  or  what  we  now 
mean  by  consciousness,  such  a  word  is  too  finite  in  its 
connotation  to  have  served  the  purpose.  For  undoubtedly 
consciousness  means  the  feeling  by  which  a  creature, 
aware  of  itself,  recognises  a  practical  (or  phenomenal) 
difference  between  itself  and  its  sustaining  medium,  as 
even  an  oyster  in  some  sort  must,  when  it  opens  its 
shell  for  the  inflow  of  nutriment  and  closes  it  against 
attack.  But  such  consciousness  as  this  cannot  thinkably 
because  be  an  attribute  of  God,  because,  according  to  Pantheism, 
that  He  there  can  be  nothing  outside  Himself,  and  we  cannot 
therefore  legitimately  conceive  Him  as  distinguishing 
Himself  from  other  being.  The  same  objection  is  not 
applicable  to  the  word  '  thought '  {cogitatio)  in  the  sense 
given  it  by  Descartes.  For  all  that  it  necessarily 
signifies  is  that,  just  as  the  infinite  Substance,  God,  has 
an  infinite  Attribute  of  Extension,  so  He  has  an  infinite 
Attribute  or  aspect  of  Thought,  which  we  may  venture 
to  describe  as  self-awareness.  And  of  course  this  self- 
awareness  includes  in  an  infinite  unity  everything  in 
existence,  from  the  Milky  Way  to  man,  beast,  plant  and 
bacterium. 
Thought  as  ;  This  attribute  of  Thought  equally  with  Extension  ex- 
the  divine  presses  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  (or  reality)  of 
1 J  y'  God.  And,  as  in  the  case  of  the  other  Attribute,  the 
essence  or  reality  it  expresses  means  to  us  the  possibility 
of  verifying  the  results  of  careful  observation.  This  is 
not  Spinoza's  teaching.  Fur  to  him  direct  intuition  of 
eternal  truth  is  the  only  verification  worth  having. 
But  different  generations  have 'their  different  forms  of 


CONCERNING  GOD  19 

thought.  And  though  I  am  a  devout  believer  in  the 
Master's  doctrine  of  intuition,  yet,  as  he  allows  other 
methods  of  approaching  reality,1  it  helps  and  does  not 
hinder  our  understanding  of  him  if  we  take  a  test  of 
reality  applicable  to  all  modes  of  knowledge.  For  the 
intuition  taught  by  him  need  not  form  any  exception ;  Verifiable 
because  it  is  its  own  verification.  In  the  case  of  Thought,  tion? 
then,  as  in  that  of  Extension,  the  reality  it  expresses 
can  always  be  verified.  As  to  the  finite  mode  of  infinite 
Thought  constituting  our  own  mind,  indeed,  intuition  is 
the  only  possible  verification ;  but  it  is  manifestly  suf- 
ficient. Cogito,  ergo  sum.  It  is  the  prime  fact  of  experi- 
ence, and,  whenever  we  choose  to  reflect,  it  is  always  there. 
But  it  may  well  be  said  that  only  the  fact  of  finite 
thought  is  verified  thus,  and  not  that  of  infinite  Thought.  Not  neces- 
Yet  this  is  not  conclusive.  For  according  to  a  line  of  confined 
argument  adopted  in  recent  times  by  an  increasing  thought, 
number  of  high  authorities,  and  likely  to  be  permanent, 
*the  intuition  of  finite  Thought  necessarily  involves  in- 
finite and  eternal  Thought.  Thus,  by  no  effort  of  any 
'faculty  we  possess,  nor  by  any  method,  whether  of 
*  victorious  analysis,'  induction  or  deduction,  can  we; 
make  thinkable  the  existence  of  finite  Thought  except 
as  a  'mode'  of  Eternal  Thought.  It  was  this  im-J 
possibility  which  forced  the  brilliant  and  candid  Pro- 
fessor Clifford  to  suggest  that  every  ultimate 'atom'  of  Professor 

.  Clifford  on 

matter  was  endowed  with  elementary  consciousness  or  'mind- 
'mind-stuff.'2     For  he  frankly  recognised  that  if  such 

1  Ethices,  Pars,  ii.,  Prop,  xl.,  Schol.  2. 

2  I  do  not  mean  that  Clifford  made  the  same  application  of  his 


20 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


The  finite 
mode  in- 
volves the 
infinite 
attribute. 


Not  that 
the  human 
conscious- 
ness in- 
volves the 
being  of  an 
infinite 
human  con- 
sciousness. 


an  attribute,  as  distinct  from  what  we  call  'physical' 
qualities,  were  not  inherent  in  'matter,'  no  conceivable 
combination,  arrangement,  or  interplay  of  'molecular 
vibrations'  could  ever  have  evolved  consciousness.  Ex- 
cluding then  the  hypothesis  of  creation  out  of  nothing, 
the  unthinkableness  of  which  is  here  assumed  through- 
out, surely  this  inference  of  universal  c  mind-stuff'  from 
the  present  existence  of  consciousness  endorses  what  has 
been  said  above,  that  the  intuition  of  finite  thought 
necessarily  involves  infinite  and  eternal  Thought.  But) 
if  the  two  ideas  are  inseparable,  the  verification  of  the? 
one  carries  with  it  the  verification  of  the  other.  And; 
thus  every  time  that  we  assure  ourselves  of  our  own 
conscious  existence,  we  assure  ourselves  also  of  an  in| 
finite  Thought,  of  which  we  are  '  modes,'  or  as  Coleridgi 
had  it,  '  parts  and  proportions.' 

It  ought  not  to  be  necessary  to  guard  against  mis- 
understanding here.  For,  of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that 
the  consciousness  of  manhood  involves  an  infinite  man- 
hood. For  the  whole  development  of  manhood  in  its 
conventional  divisions  into  '  body '  and  '  soul '  can  now 
be  traced  with  a  fair  approximation  to  completeness. 
And  we  know  that  mankind  have  been  evolved  out  of 
some  sort  of  anthropoid  ape  through  stages  suggested 
by  the  imperfect  skeleton  of  the  '  anthropopithecus '  of 
Java.  But  that  there  ever  was  a  time  when  there  was 
no  c  mind-stuff  is  not  only  unproved,  but,  as  Professor 
Clifford  saw,  unthinkable.  While,  therefore,  I  am  far 
from  reckoning  that  distinguished  man  as  a  '  Spinozist/ 
I  do  maintain  that  he  confirmed  Spinoza's  view  of 
Thought  as  an  attribute  of  the  Universe.     Of  course  the 


CONCEENING  GOD  21 

word    used    is    imperfect,   an    expression,   as    Matthew 
Arnold  used  to  say,  '  thrown  out '  at  an  idea  too  vast 
for  expression.      But  at  least  we  may  say  this  much  : 
Clifford's    'mind-stuff'   was    diffused    and    omnipresent  But  the 
throughout  a  universe  to  which,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  ence  of 
assigned  no   bounds.      Summing   up,  then,   that  omni-  stuff' ' 
present   and   infinite   '  mind-stuff,'   we  have  practically  aft  the 
Spinoza's  infinite  eternal  Thought  as  an  attribute  of  the  is  aware* 
divine  Substance  or  God.     In  other  words,  the  Universe  of  ltself' 
must  be  somehow  aware  of  itself.. 

Another  prevalent  conviction  of  modern  thinkers  may  Modem 

insistence 

be  adduced  as  giving  some  confirmation  to  the  foregoing,  that  there 

can  be  no 

For  the  notion  that  there  can  be  anywhere  an  object  object 
without  a  subject  to  be  aware  of  it  is,  so  far  as  my  subject. 
reading  goes,  entirely  repudiated  by  all  thinkers  outside 
the  rapidly  diminishing  school  of  molecular  mechanists. 
By  which  latter  description  I  mean  those  who  still 
cling  to  the  theory  that  the  whole  Universe,  with  its 
life  and  feeling,  can  be  explained  by  a  chance-begotten 
arrangement  of  dead  atoms.  Outside  this  ancient  and 
dying  sect,  there  is  a  general  recognition  that  when 
we  look  at  anything  such  as  sun  or  moon  or  tree  or 
flower,  we — or  the  God  in  us — in  some  measure  make 
what  we  see.  And  what  would  be  left  of  the  object, 
if  we  could  deduct  what  we  do  not  make,  no  one  has 
yet  been  wise  enough  to  tell  us. 

Common-sense,  in  its  rough  way,  endorses  the  maxim 
that  '  we  see  in  things  what  we  bring  to  them.'     But  Seeing  in 

°  °  things  what 

to  what  extent  this  is  true  neither  common-sense  nor  we  bring 

to  them. 

philosophy  has  been  able  to  decide.      That  to  a  man 
colour-blind,  to  a  short-sighted  man,  and  to  a  man  of 


22  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

normal  vision,  a  tree  must  needs  be  a  very  different  object, 
every  one  owns.  But  how  much  its  greenery,  its  grace, 
the  interest  of  its  tracery,  and  the  music  of  its  murmur 
owe  to  the  subjectivity,  or — sacrificing  accuracy  to  plain- 
ness, let  us  say — to  the  mental  constitution  of  the 
normal  man,  we  really  do  not  know.  But  this  at  least 
is  certain,  that  his  view  of  the  tree  includes  a  good 
deal  that  is  not  in  the  tree  but  in  himself,  as  for 
instance,  colour,  grace,  and  interest.  Doubtless  there 
must  be  something  which  stimulates  such  perceptions 
in  the  observer,  but  that  this  something  is  anything 
like  what  he  perceives  is  not  only  improbable  but 
impossible.  I  must  not  be  misunderstood  as  insinuat- 
ing that  the  observer  is  the  subject  of  illusion.  Not  at 
all.  He  is  the  subject  of  reality  and  sees  reality.  But 
then  the  reality  is  not  something  outside  and  separate 
from  him;  it  is  the  relation  between  the  mode  of 
divine  Thought  constituting  his  mind  and  the  mode 
of  divine  Extension  constituting  the  tree.  Take  away 
the  mode  of  thought,  and  the  mode  of  extension  would 
be — we  know  not  what,  but  certainly  not  a  tree  as  we 
conceive  it. 

But  modern  metaphysicians  go  farther  than  this,  and 

with  much  reason.     They  are  not  content  with  divesting 

still  further  the  thing  seen  of  all  that  we  manifestly  bring  to  it.     They 

without       say  that  the  residual  object  is  still  a  thing  thought  of, 

sui!ject.g      and  except  as  a  thing  thought  of  can  have  no  existence. 

This  of  course  does  not  mean  that  the  object  has  no 

existence  except  as  we  think  of  it.     But  it  does  mean 

that  a  thing  which  is  an  object  of  no  thought  at  all,  has 

no  existence.     And  whether  we  agree  with  them  or  not, 


CONCERNING  GOD  23 

it  is  surely  very  difficult  to  draw  the  line  between  those 
qualities  which,  as  common-sense  allows,  are  brought  to 
an  observed  object  by  thought,  and  those  which  may  be 
supposed  to  have  an  independent  existence.  For,  put  it 
how  we  may,  the  residual,  uncoloured,  unscented,  un- 
sentimental thing  is  still  realised  only  in  thought.  Take 
thought  away  altogether,  and  is  there  anything  left  ?  A 
permanent  possibility  of  stimulating  thought  perhaps? 
But  is  not  that  something  thought  of!  And  what 
becomes  of  it  if  not  thought  of  at  all  by  any  thinking 
being  ? 

I  need  not  labour  the  point  farther.     Its  only  bearing 
on  my  purpose  is  the  illustration  it  affords  of  a  certain  Sole  impor- 
tendency  among  thinking  people  to  recur  to    Spinoza's  as  an  iiius- 
philosophy,  not  indeed  in  the  letter  but  in  the  spirit,  recurrence 
From  the  letter,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  we  are  com-  °  pm0 
pelled  to  diverge  widely.     But  in  the  recognition  that 
there  can  be  no  object  without  subject,  or,  in  other  words, 
that   the   existence   of    finite    thought   implies   infinite 
thought  as  an  eternal  attribute  to  the  Universe  or  God, 
there  is  a  very  marked  recurrence  to  the  spirit  of  the 
'  Ethics.'     This  does  not  mean  that  the  finite  thought  is 
the  object  of   the  Infinite  thought,  but  that   the  finite 
thought  is  a  mode  of  Infinite  Thought. 

But  against  one  error  in  interpretation  we  must  very  No  idea 
carefully  guard  if  we  would  understand  Spinoza.   i We  Icemience ' 
are  not  to  suppose  that  God  has  any  other  Self  than  the111  pmoza* 
Universe ;  for  that  would  be  to  imagine  Him  as  having  a 
self  other  than  Himself?)  I   am  well  aware  that  many 
who  are  partly  attracted  by  Spinoza  desire  to  reconcile 
his  teaching  with  theological  tradition  by  insisting  on  a 


24  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

transcendence  as  well  as  an  immanence  of  God.  This  is 
not  the  place  to  argue  the  question;  all  I  say  here  is 
that,  if  we  are  to  understand  the  Master  at  all,  we  must 
not  carry  that  notion  with  us  into  the  study  of  his 
works. 
The  attri-        xhe  infinite  attribute  of  Thought  then,  or  self-awareness, 

bute  of  . 

Thought     equally  with  the   attribute  of  Extension,  expresses  the 

co-ordinate 

with  that  of  eternal  and   infinite  being  (essentia)  or  reality  of    God. 

extension 

and  infinite  And  here  again  we  must  be  on  our  guard  against  the 

+Vi 

insidious  intrusion  of  notions  about  phenomena  dis- 
tinguishable from  '  things  in  themselves,'  notions  against 
which  Herbert  Spencer — though  I  cannot  believe  he 
held  them  himself — did  not  sufficiently  guard  his  readers. 
But  none     Spinoza  cherished  no  such  superstition.  fThe  '  Attributes,' 

are  to  be  ,.  ,  .  ,  ,  V 

separated    according  to  .kini,  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  distinct  frojn_ 

from  the      "f!  .     ,  J ,  . , 

divine  the  substance  any  more  than  the  various  aspects  of  a 
'  flashing  diamond  can  be  separated  from  the  diamond 
itself*)  They  are  the  diamond  and  express  its  reality, 
though  doubtless  there  are  other  aspects  of  crystallised 
carbon  incognisable  to  our  senses,  yet  equally  expressing 
its  reality,  j  Just  so  in  the  view  of  Spinoza  Extension 
is  one  aspect  of  the  divine  Substance,  and  Thought  is 
another.  But  they  are  not  qualities  or  powers  added  on 
to  its  essence.  They  are  its  essence  as  seen  by  con-., 
templation  in  one  or  the  other  aspect.  And  as  they  are 
not  qualities  added  on  to  the  divine  Substance,  so  neither 

nor  from  are  they  to  be  regarded  as  independent  of  each  other,  or 
as  distinct  entities  or  as  entities  at  all.  f  They  are  in- 
separable as  they  are  infinite.  For  wherever  tliere  is 
Extension  there  is  divine  Thought,  and  wherever  there 
is  divine   Thought   there    is    Extension.^     Thus   if    the 


each  other. 


CONCEENING  GOD  25 

Universe,  in  one  aspect  of  it,  is  a  measureless  network  of 
flaming  orbs  and  planets,  it  is  so  because  God  so  thinks 
it.  And  if  the  thought  of  the  glorious  vision  implies 
illimitable  space,  it  is  so  because  Extension  is  an 
inseparable  concomitant  of  the  divine  Thought. 

Further,  Spinoza  teaches  that  besides  these  Attributes 

there  are  innumerable  others,  each  of  them  infinite,  each  Imramer- 

•  a1:)le  otner 

subject  to  innumerable  modes,  and  each  expressing  the  attributes 

infinite  reality  of  God.     But  they  express  that  reality  abieto 

for  God  Himself,  or  for  creatures  other  than  ourselves, 

because  they  are  incognisable  to  us.     What  then  is  their 

place   in   a   rational   system  ?      Confining    ourselves    to 

Spinoza,  there   can    be   no   difficulty  in  answering  this 

question.     For   the   assumption   is   necessary  to  a  very  Need  for 

important  article  in  his  creed,  and  that  is  the  funxla-  Spinoza's 

~  system. 

mental,   incommensurable    difference    between   eternity 

and  time.     For  him  eternity  is  not  infinite  duration,  and 

in   fact   has    nothing   whatever    to    do   with    duration. 

Eternity  is,  if  we  may  so  speak,  an  infinite  moment,  the  j 

lifetime   of   infinite   Thought,   without   past   or   future. 

And  if  in  our  view  the  manifestations  of  the  Eternal 

'  change   from   glory  to   glory,'   that   is   because  of  our 

finiteness  which  cannot  at  one  glance  comprehend  Him 

as  He  is.     But  in  His  essence  He  is  now  all  that  can  bei  God  is  now 

There  can  be  no  addition  and  no  diminution.     Now  ifWn  be. 

that  is  so,  it  is  obvious  that  the  essence  of  the  Eternal 

must  be  expressible  in  an  infinite  variety  of  ways)    Thus, 

for  Spinoza  it  was  impossible  to  suppose  the  Attributes 

.    .         ~  This  neces- 

expressive  or  the  reality  or  the  divine  Substance  to  be  sitatea  the 
confined  to  two.     On  the  contrary,  those  Attributes  must  ofumumer- 
be  innumerable,  that  is,  if  the  expression  be  allowed,  bute*. 


2G 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Sir 

Frederick 
Pollock's 
criticism. 


infinite  in  number.  Further,  every  one  of  such  in  cog- 
nisable attributes  must  be,  like  Extension  and  Thought, 
not  something  separable  in  any  sense  from  the  divine 
Substance,  but,  to  adopt  Sir  Frederick  Pollock's  word,  an 
aspect  of  it.  And  like  Extension  and  Thought  they 
must  be  all  so  correlated  that,  if  it  were  possible  to 
bring  within  our  cognisance  fifty  or  a  hundred  or  a 
thousand  of  them,  the  multiplication  would  only  deepei 
our  sense  of  the  divine  unity,  beside  which  unity  there  i^ 
indeed  no  other  that  is  real. 

It  is  necessary  now  to  pay  particular  attention1  to  the 
very  important  and  incisive  criticism  made  by  Sir 
Frederick  Pollock  on  Spinoza's  treatment  of  the  attributes 
of  Extension  and  Thought.  '  It  is  to  be  observed  that 
inasmuch  as  Attribute  is  defined  by  reference  to  intellect,2 
and  Thought  itself  is  an  Attribute,  Thought  appears  to 
Thought     be  in  a  manner   counted  twice  over.'     That  is  to  say, 

counted 

twice  over.  Thought  is  treated  in  the  definition  as  necessary  to  the 
very  existence  of  extension,  because  Extension  is  what  is 
1  perceived.'  But  then  again  Thought  is  regarded  as  an 
Attribute  entirely  distinct  and  independent.  In  making 
Extension  the  object  of  a  perceiving  subject  Spinoza^ 
was  in  accord  with  the  modern  tendencies  of  thought 
mentioned  above.     But  it  is  difficult  to  understand  why 

Superfluity  he  should  think  it  necessary  to  irive  a  separate  and  in- 

of  any  other  J  °  l 

Attributes   dependent  existence  to  the  Attribute  of  Extension  when, 

Thought,     by   his   definition   of    Attribute,   he    makes    Extension 

necessarily   something   perceived,  or,  in   other  words,  a 

1  See  p.  14  ante,  and  Pollock's  Spinoza,  pp.  153  and  164. 

2  Ethices,  Pars,  i.,  Def.  iv.  'By  an  attribute  I  understand  that 
which  the  intellect  (thought)  perceives  concerning  Substance,  as 
constituting  the  essence  (reality)  of  the  latter.' 


CONCERNING  GOD  27 

mode  of  thought.  '  Hence/  says  Sir  Frederick  Pollock, 
1  all  Attributes  except  Thought  are  really  superfluous : 
and  Spinoza's  doctrine  when  thus  reduced  to  its  simplest 
terms  is  that  nothing  exists  but  thought  and  its  modifi- 
cations/ 

Nevertheless,  with  all  the  deference  due  to  so  high  an  Some 
authority,  I  think  the  criticism  is  here  carried  too  far.  tottie101 
Sir  Frederick  says  indeed  that  'it  does  not  affect  the  criticism- 
substantial  and  working  value  of  Spinoza's  metaphysic.' 
Yet  it  is  an  essential  article   in   Spinoza's   creed  that 
everything  within  the  infinite  possibilities  of  existence 
does  actually  exist.     It  is  so  essential  that — as  I  hope 
will  be  seen  farther  on — without  it   the  whole   system 
collapses  like  St.  Mark's  Campanile  through  disharmony  4 
of  internal   strains.     But  if   everything   that  can   exist 
does  exist,  it  is  surely  venturesome  to  say  that  all  po_ssi-. 
bilities  of  existence  are  limited  to  forms  of  thought.     We 
do   not   indeed   know  what   else  there  can  be.     But  it 
would  be  presumptuous  to  limit  possibilities  of  existence 1  The  infinity 

,  -,2  , .  m,  r~     .  of  existence 

to   our   capacity   ot   conception.     The    more   consistent  involves  the 
course  would   seem   to   be   to  allow  that  Spinoza  does  Attributes. 
appear  to  have  set  up  two  Attributes  where  only  one  was 
necessary,  but  at  the  same  time  to  allow  that  God  may 
have  infinite  other  Attributes  incognisable  to  us.  Whether 
it  is  worth  while  to  follow  that  great  master  in  such  a 


1  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  having  been  good  enough  to  read  the  few 
lines  here  referring  to  his  comment  on  this  part  of  Spinoza's  system, 
makes  on  the  above  sentence  the  following  remark,  which  with  his 
permission  I  quote  :  '  Otherwise,  whatever  exists,  exists  because  and  so 
far  as  it  can.  The  current  use  of  "  can  "  and  "possible  "  means  that  no 
don't  know  all  the  conditions.  But  the  question  remains,  what  do  we 
mean  by  existence?' 


/■ 


28  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

fashion  is  a  point  that  cannot  fairly  be  decided  until  we 
have  completed  our  study  of  him,  and  have  seen  how  on 
this  foundation  rests  the  heaven-high  tower  of  contem- 
plation and  peace  and  purity  which  he  built  for  all  the 

7  Meantime  it  is  sufficient  to  define  the  position  we 
(  assume.  We  accept  his  doctrine  of  Substance.  We 
regard  it  as  Being.  It  is  knowable  to  us  through  one 
Attribute  of  Thought.  This  is  not  something  added  to 
or  distinguishable  from  Being.  But  it  expresses  to  our 
intellect  the  essence  or  reality  of  substance  or  God.  At 
the  same  time  we  provisionally  follow  the  Master  in 
holding  that  the  divine  Substance,  Being,  or  God  has 
infinite  other  Attributes  or  aspects  which  remain  incog- 
i\  nisable  x  to  us. 
Reasons  for  ^  tne  res^  °f  tne  First  Book  of  the  Ethica  my  purpose 
does  not  require  me  to  give  any  detailed  account.  Of 
course,  for  those  who  wish  to  attain  an  approximately 
complete  comprehension  of  Spinoza's  philosophy  of  the 
Universe,  a  minute  and  careful  study  of  every  word  is 
needful.  For  of  him  perhaps  more  truly  than  of  any 
man  who  ever  wrote,  except  perhaps  Tacitus,  it  may  be 
said  that  he  never  used  an  unnecessary  word.     But  as 

1  "  Yes,  but  not  to  all  capacity  or  intelligence.  The  idealist  position 
is  that  unknowable  reality  (not  merely  unknowable  to  an}'  particular 
kind  of  finite  perception  and  intelligence)  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
I  have  always  disclaimed  believing  in  systems  as  distinct  from  method, 
and  should  disclaim  it  more  strongly  now  than  twenty -five  years  ago." 
For  this  comment  I  am  also  indebted  to  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  under 
the  circumstances  mentioned  above.  I  am  content ;  for  the  method 
of  Spinoza  is  more  important  to  me  than  his  system.  And  I  am  sure 
that  his  method  leads  inevitably  to  that  identity  of  God  and  the 
Universe  which  is  the  ultimate  goal,  as  it  was,  in  a  sense,  the  starting- 
point  of  religion. 


tion. 


CONCERNING  GOD  29 

my  object  is  simply  to  bring  within  reach  of  ordinary  Religious 
people  like  myself  the  religious  peace  and  joy  that  result  dominant, 
from  his  identification  of  God  with  the  Universe,  all  I 
need  to  do  is  to  note  such  ideas  of  the  earlier  books  as 
are  essential  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  appreciation  of 
the  final  book. 

We  have  noted  above  how,  according  to  the  Master, 
the  infinite  divine  substance  is  one,  and  there  can  no 
more  be  two  substances  than  there  can  be  two  Gods.  It 
follows — but  the  proofs  need  not  detain  us — that  the  one 
divine   Substance   is   indivisible.     I   may  quote  certain  Substance 

,  ,         , .  indivisible. 

pregnant  sentences  of  explanation  : — 

'  If,  however,  any  one  should  ask  why  we  are  by  nature  so 
inclined  to  the  division  of  quantity,1  I  reply  to  him  that 
quantity  is  conceived  by  us  in  two  different  modes,  that  is  to 
say,  abstractly2 — apart  from  reality — or  superficially,  just 
as  we  fancy  it ;  or  else  as  substance,  a  conception  grasped 
only  by  the  intellect.' — Part  I.,  Prop,  xv.,  Schol. 

To   a   critical    reader   it    may   naturally   occur   that,  Even  if  ex- 
if    we    surrender    extension    as    a    distinct    Attribute,  regarded6 
and   regard   it   only  as   a   mode   of  Thought,  this  part  ^  Thought 
of    Spinoza's   teaching    can   have    no    interest    for    us.  Jh.ls  d.oc" 
But    I   am   not   so   sure   of    that.      For   the    majority  j]ot  suPer- 
of  people   have   an  inveterate  habit  of  regarding  each 
finite  personality  as  so  intensely  one  and  distinct  from 
everything  else,  that  it  may  be  taken  as  the  very  type  of 
unity.     Now  this  belief  is  certainly  opposed  to  Spinoza's 
doctrine   of  the   indivisibility  of   Substance.      Because,  Ordinary 
though  we  are  dealing  immediately  with  an  Attribute  SersonaUty 
(Thought)  and  not  with  the  divine  Substance,  yet,  as  we  witiiTt.Stent 

1  I.e.  by  measurement  in  yards,  feet,  inches,  etc. 
3  See  farther  on,  p.  30. 


30 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


The  doc- 
trine of 
Substance 
unaffected. 


Spinoza's 
notion 
of  the 
'  abstract ' 
and  the 
' substan- 
tial' 


have  seen,  Spinoza  regards  the  Attribute  not  as  some- 
thing distinct  from  Substance,  but  as  one  aspect  of  it 
expressing  its  infinite  reality.  If,  then,  we  regard  the 
Attribute  or  aspect  as  divided  down  to  the  very  core  of 
Being,  so  that  finite  personality  becomes  the  type  of 
separate  and  distinct  unity,  we  necessarily  imply  a 
division  of  the  divine  Substance,  and  thus  contravene  one 
of  Spinoza's  essential  principles.  But  on  this  question 
no  more  need  be  said  than  is  sufficient  to  show  that  even 
if  we  merge  Extension  in  Thought,  the  doctrine  of  Sub- 
stance is  unaffected.  Or,  as  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  says 
of  his  own  luminous  observations  on  this  point,  'the 
process  of  criticism  we  have  just  gone  through,  supposing 
it  to  be  legitimate,  does  not  affect  the  substantial  and 
working  value  of  Spinoza's  metaphysic' 

Eeturning  then  to  the  Master's  defence  of  his  teaching 
on  the  indivisibility  of  substance,  we  note  that  his  mode 
of  regarding  the  '  abstract '  and  the  ' substantial '  is  pre- 
cisely the  opposite  of  that  sanctioned  by  ordinary 
custom.  For  the  latter  treats  apparently  separate  exist- 
ences, such  as  stones,  trees,  and  persons,  as  real,  while 
the  mental  effort  to  merge  them  all  in  a  higher  unity  as 
modes  of  the  infinite  Thought  is  regarded  as  an  exercise 
in  abstraction.  But  Spinoza,  being  convinced  that  the 
Universe,  or  God,  is  one  substance  and  essentially  indi- 
visible, regards  all  our  impressions  of  separate  finite  / 
things  as  abstractions  from  reality;1  while  the  infinite 

1  This  has  nothing  to  do  with  Spinoza's  treatment  of  the  idea  of  ^ 
species.  He  quite  rightly  taught  that  the  idea  of  species  is  only  a 
blurred  image  of  the  individuals  comprised,  when  they  become  too 
numerous  to  be  retained  separately  in  memory.  But  this  has  no  bear- 
ing upon  his  theory  that  neither  the  ■  individuals '  nor  the  species 
imply  any  division  of  the  divine  Substance. 


an  im- 
putation of 


CONCERNING  GOD  31 

truth  is  cognisable   only  by  the   intellect,  or,  as   Kant 
afterwards  preferred  to  call  it,  the  '  pure  reason.' 

But  this   does  not  at   all   imply   that    our    ordinary  not 
impressions  are  false.     For  though  they  are  not  abso-  falsehood 
lutely  true,  they  are  relatively  true.     Let  me  try  if  I  can  prions, 
illustrate  what  I  mean.     I  have  already  admitted  that 
all  analogies  between  the  finite  and  the   infinite   must 
needs  be  inexact.     Still  sometimes  they  help  us  a  little,  but  their 
Think,  then,  of  a  number  of  observers,  north,  south,  east  laUvVnot" 
and  west,  contemplating  a  great  mountain  whose  form  absolute- 
has  been  carved  and  moulded  and  riven  by  the  vicissi- 
tudes  of  geological  time.      Needless   to   say   that  the  illustration 
contour  is  so  different,  as  seen  from  various  points,  that  views  of T 
if  two  or  three  observers  compared  their  own  personal  mountam : 
impressions   alone,    the   only   escape   from   the    mutual 
imputation  of  falsehood  would  seem  to  be  that  they  had 
not  been  looking  at  the  same  mountain.     Yet  not  one  of 
their   impressions  is  false.     It  is  true  relatively  to  the 
position  of  the  observer,  but  it  is  not  a  true  account  of 
the  whole  mass.     Thus  one  observer  may  see  an  aiguille  aiguille, 
apparently  quite  detached  from  the  great  mountain  and 
placed  as  the  chief  feature  of  a  symmetrical  arrangement 
of  harmonious  curves  and  wooded  slopes  around  its  base, 
so  that  it  at  once  appears  to  demand  a  distinct  name,  and 
to  be  a  thing  of   beauty  by  itself.     To   another   every 
feeling  is  centred  in  a  magnificent  waterfall  which  rushes  waterfall, 
into  view  from  untrodden  heights  above,  and,  both  by  its 
might  and  its  grace  and  its  commanding  voice,  so  sub- 
ordinates  to   itself   every  other   feature   of   the   visible 
landscape  that,  to  this  observer,  the  vision  of  the  moun- 
tain is  the  vision  of  the  waterfall,  nothing  more.     To  a 


32 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


forest  and 
precipice  ; 


view  of  the 
whole  from 
the  sky. 


Thus 
Spinoza 
treats  the 
idea  of 
separate 
things  or 
persons. 


third,  aspiring  forests  barred  by  naked  precipices  above, 
and  the  gleam  of  snow-fields  over  all,  are  for  ever  asso- 
ciated with  the  mountain's  name.  And  all  these  aspects 
are  true,  relatively  to  the  positions  of  the  observers.  But 
to  the  daring  aeronaut  who  sails  through  the  sky  over 
the  summit,  the  great  mountain  is  seen  to  merge  all  these 
particular  aspects  in  a  general  form  which,  though  it 
convict  none  of  the  observers  of  falsehood,  yet  cannot  be 
identified  with  what  is  seen  by  any.  The  painter's 
picture  of  the  aiguille  and  its  surrounding  beauties,  the 
poet's  vision  of  the  waterfall  and  his  interpretation  of  its 
chant,  the  rapture  of  Kuskin's  disciple  before  forest  per- 
spectives and  precipice  and  snow,  are  all  the  result  of 
abstraction  from  the  whole,  and  concentration  of  thought 
and  emotion  on  a  part  which  cannot,  except  relatively 
to  contemplative  thought  and  sense,  be  detached  there- 
from. 

So  Spinoza  regarded  all  our  impressions  of  separate 
and  detached  things  or  persons  as  abstractions  from 
reality,  yet  not  on  that  account  false.  For  they  are  true 
relatively  to  our  finite  mode  of  the  infinite  Thought. 
And  this  truth  can  always  be  verified  so  long  as  our  finite 
mode  of  thought  remains  what  it  is.  For  as  the  artisti- 
cally conceived  landscape  abstracted  from  the  mountain 
mass  will  always  be  there  again  if  the  painter  goes  away 
and  returns  to  it,  so  the  abstractions  formed  from  the 
infinite  Whole  by  finite  modes  of  thought  can  always  be 
perceived  again  so  long  as  the  exercise  of  our  senses  and 
conception  are  normal,  that  is,  in  accordance  with  the 
nature  of  things. 

The  Proposition  (i.,  xxviii.)  and  Scholium  in  which  his 


CONCERNING  GOD  33 

doctrine  of  finite  things  is  set  forth  are  attended  by  all  His  endless 
the  inconveniences  of  the  inappropriate  Euclidean  form,  fr^te 
which  to  many  readers — and  indeed  to  all  of  us  at  first  effects. an 
sight — quite   obscures    the   plain   common-sense  at  the 
basis  of  his  theory.     For  really  it  all   amounts  to  this/f 
that,  while  nothing  can  be  separated  from  and  still  less 
independent  of  God,  the  infinite  Attributes  are  subject 
to  an  infinite  variety  of  finite  modes,  so  that  the  plenum 
of  the  divine  Life — if  we  may  so  speak — must  be  cor/ 
ceived  by  us  as  an  infinite  series  of  finite  changes,  so 
balanced  as  to  constitute  a  Whole  of  eternal  rest  and 
peace.     I  know  that  this  is  not  the  form  taken  by  his 
quasi-mathematical  proposition  and  proof.     But  that  this 
is  what  it  means  when  translated  into  the  thought  of  the 
plain  man  I  cannot  doubt.     Here  is  the  Proposition  in 
English : — 

'Every  individual  (thing)  or  any  finite  thing  having  a 
limited  (mode  of)  existence,  would  be  unable  to  exist  or  be 
actuated  to  work,  unless  it  were  determined  in  its  existence 
and  working  by  some  other  cause  which  also  is  finite  and  has 
a  limited  (mode  of)  existence,  and  again  this  cause  also 
cannot  exist  nor  be  determined  in  its  operation  unless  it  is 
actuated  in  its  existence  and  work  by  another  which  is  also 
finite  and  has  a  limited  (mode  of)  existence,  and  so  on  with- 
out end.' 

This  may  sound  very  obscure  and  dry.  But  it  is  only 
the   Philosopher's  way  of   expressing   the   truth  of  the  Rendered 

.   .  in  poetic 

Poet  s  vision  : —  form. 

'  There  rolls  the  deep  where  grew  the  tree. 
0  earth,  what  changes  hast  thou  seen  ! 
There  where  the  long  street  roars,  hath  been 
Tho  stillness  of  the  central  sea. 

0 


34  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

1  The  hills  are  shadows,  and  they  flow 

From  form  to  form  and  nothing  stands  ; 
They  melt  like  mists,  the  solid  lands, 
Like  clouds  they  shape  themselves  and  go.' 

Or  as  a  much  older  philosopher,  with  an  occasional 
gleam  of  melancholy  poetry  in  his  view  of  life,  wrote 
long  ago : — 

Aprecedent  '  One  generation  passeth  away  and  another  generation 
tureCriI>  cometh ;  but  the  earth  abideth  for  ever.  The  sun  also 
ariseth  and  the  sun  goeth  down,  and  hasteth  to  his  place 
where  he  arose.  The  wind  goeth  toward  the  south  and 
turneth  about  unto  the  north  :  it  whirleth  about  continually, 
and  the  wind  returneth  again  according  to  his  circuits.  All 
the  rivers  run  into  the  sea ;  yet  the  sea  is  not  full ;  unto  the 
place  from  whence  the  rivers  come,  thither  they  return 
again.' 

Of  course,  neither  the  Hebrew  cynic  nor  the  late  poet 
had  the  same  philosophy  as  Spinoza.     But  their  descrip- 
tion of  the  interplay  of  finite  causes  which  keeps  per- 
petual movement  within  the  bosom  of  eternal  peace  is 
really  a  sort  of '  kinetogram '  of  the  principles  laid  down 
by  the  Master.1 
Approxi-         Further,   Spinoza   seems   here    to   anticipate,   though 
cipation  of  distantly,  the  modern  doctrines  of  cause  as  equivalent  to 
?o°ctriueof  the  infinite  sum  of  all  conditions,  and  therefore  identical 
'cause-'       with  the  effect.     I  say  '  distantly,'  for  his  approximation 
consists  only  in  the  perception  that  there  can  be  no 

1  The  fact  that  Spinoza  speaks  of  a  static  interdependence  of  all 
finite  things  on  one  another,  while  the  Poet  and  the  Hebrew  sage 
referred  to  their  perpetual  movement,  is  of  no  consequence.  For 
Spinoza  knew  as  well  as  Heraclitus  that  !  vavra  pel,'  all  things  flow  : 
and  the  static  interdependence  is  simply  the  aspect  presented  to 
momentary  consciousness,  as  when  we  glance  at  a  rushing  waterfall, 
which  seems  still,  hut,  as  we  know,  is  in  violent  motion. 


CONCEKNING  GOD  35 

isolated  '  cause,'  that  everything  is  dependent  on  every- 
thing else.  Thus  the  movements  within  the  Universe 
are  an  infinite  number  of  unbeginning  and  endless  series 
through  which  the  determination  to  existence  and  action  * 
runs.  Still  his  language  about  '  causes '  belongs  to  his 
own  and  preceding  times,  and  would  scarcely  be  adopted 
at  the  present  time  except  by  way  of  convenient  conven- 
tion;  just  as  evolutionists  talk  of  the  'purpose'  of 
'natural  selection/  though  the  word  means  for  them 
only  the  result  attained,  without  any  implication  of 
intention. 

Still  there  remains  insoluble  for  us  or  for  any  finite  An  in- 
creature,  even  an  archangel,  if  such  a  being  exists,  the  problem 
relation  of  what  we  call  '  time '  to  eternity,  or  the  coinci- remaa 
deuce,  nay,  identity,  of  the  peaceful   realisation   of  all 
possible  existence  on  the  infinite  scale,  with  the  innumer- 
able, unbeginning  and  endless  series  of  movements  which 
constitute  our  impressions  of  life  and  the  universe.     All 
we  can  say  is  that  the  very  fact  of  our  finite  existence, 
though  it  be  not  the  hard,  distinct,  and  separate  thing 

1  But  the  determination  to  existence  and  action  is  really  of  God 
alone,  and  the  impression  of  intermediate  '  causes '  and  successions  is 
due  simply  to  our  relative  view  of  modes  or  modifications  of  the 
Attributes  of  the  divine  Substance.  Spinoza's  apparent  recognition 
of  secondary  causes  must  surely  be  interpreted  consistently  with  his 
Scholium  to  Proposition  xxv.,  Pt.  I.,  where  he  explains  that  God  is  the 
cause  of  all  things  in  the  same  sense  in  which  He  is  the  cause  of  Him- 
self, i.e.  all  things  are  expressions  of  His  self -existence.  Or,  as  he 
puts  it  in  the  Corollary  following,  '  Individual  things  are  nothing  but 
affections  or  modes  of  the  Attributes  of  God  by  which  His  attributes 
are  expressed  in  a  definite  and  limited  manner.'  E.g.  a  triangle  or 
circle  is  an  affection  or  mode  of  the  Attribute  of  Extension  expressing 
it  in  a  definite,  limited  manner.  And  a  man's  thought  about  the 
world  is  a  similarly  limited  mode  of  the  divine  Attribute  of 
Thought. 


36  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

which  some  have  thought,  makes  contemplation  from 
the  height  of  infinity  impossible.  Relatively  our  im- 
pressions are  true.  Past,  present,  and  future  are  real, 
just  as  partial  views  of  one  enormous  mountain  are  real 
to  beholders  in  different  positions.  But  all  the  same,  it 
is  true  as  Spinoza  teaches,  therein  agreeing  with  many  of 
the  greatest  philosophers  and  divines,  that  Eternity  is  not 
unlimited  duration,  but  the  always  present  consumma- 
tion of  all  possible  existence. 
Natura  This  seems  the  best  place  in  which  to  refer  to  a  dis- 

and  tinction  treated  as  important  by  Spinoza,  though  it  seems 

Natwrata.  to  me  to  have  little  bearing  on  the  practical  issues  of  re- 
ligion which  I  have  in  view.  Still,  though  I  am  making 
no  pretence  to  give  a  complete,  detailed  statement  of  the 
Master's  philosophy,  this  is  a  point  too  characteristic  to 
be  omitted  even  in  a  sketch.  For  the  distinction  be- 
tween Natura  Naturans  or  Nature  Active,  and  Natura 
Naturata,  or  Nature  Passive,  gave  profound  satisfaction 
to  the  great  Pantheist,1  and  it  is  possible  that  even  now 
it  may  afford  relief  to  those  who  are  attracted  by  his 
vision  of  the  Universe,  but  who,  owing  to  the  inveteracy 
of  ancient  habit,  cannot  dispense  with  the  antithesis  of 
Nature  Creator  and  Creation.  Now  by  Natura  Naturans  we  are 
NaturV111'1  fco  understand  '  what  exists  in  and  by  itself,  and  is  con- 
Passive.  ceived  ]jj  itself,  or  such  Attributes  of  Substance  as 
express  its  eternal  and  infinite  essence  (or  reality),  that 
is,  God,  so  for  as  He  is  contemplated  as  a  free  cause.' 2  By 
Natura  Naturata,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  to  understand 

1  The  distinction,  of  course  was  not  invented  by  him,  as  it  was 
familiar  to  theological  and  scholarly  writers  of  the  Middle  Ages.  But 
I  do  not  think  any  one  ever  before  explained  the  distinction  in  the 
same  way.  '  L,  xxix.,  Schol. 


CONCERNING  GOD  37 

1  all  that  follows  necessarily  from  the  nature  of  God,  or  prop,  xxix., 

from  any  and  every  one  of  the  Attributes  of  God,  that  is, 

all  the  modes  of  God's  Attributes,  in  so  far  as  they  are 

contemplated  as  'things'  (res),  which   are  in  God,  and 

which   cannot  either  exist  or  be  conceived  apart  from 

God.'     In  a  word,  as  suggested  above,  the  one  is  Nature 

Active,  while  the  other  is  Nature  Passive,  but  they  differ 

only   in   aspect.     For    they   are   in   essence   absolutely 

identical,  and  each  is  only  a  mode  of  conceiving  God.     It 

should  be  noted,  however,  that  thought,  will,  desire,  love, 

and  all  affections  belong  to  Natura  Naiurata  and  not  to  intellect 

»t  -jit-  -r>  •  •  •  l  andemo- 

JSatura  Naturans.     But  this  is  not  inconsistent  with  my  tion  belong 
rendering  of  the  former  phrase  as  Nature  Passive,  because  xaturata. 
the   thought,   will,   desire  and  the  like  here  in  view  are 
only  modes  of  attributes  even  were  they  on  an  infinite 
scale,  and  are  referred  to  God  as  their  free  cause. 

And  here,  before  leaving  this  First  Book  '  Concerning 
God,'  it  is  needful  to  say  a  word  on  Spinoza's  use  of  the 
word  '  freedom.'     For,  ever  since  Milton's  Fallen  Angels 
endeavoured  to  alleviate  their  catastrophe  by  debatings 
on  '  free  will '  and  '  fate,'  every  one  who  surveyed  Nature 
and  Man  has  been  compelled  to  face  a  problem  which,  By  Free 
like  the  equally  ancient  one  of  motion,  solvitur  amhulando  not  meant 
and  in  no  other  way.     We  have  already  seen  that  whenftr  Variable 
the  Master  speaks  of  a  divine  '  free  cause,'  he  means  aj 
cause  subject  to  no  external  compulsion,  and  acting  oniy^ 
in  accordance  with  the  eternal  laws  of  Its  own  nature/1  ( 
While,  however,   this   freedom   excludes   external   com 

1  Of  course,  the  phrase  ■  laws  of  His  own  naturo '  is  insufficient. 
But  however  we  think  of  natural  law,  it  suggests  to  most  of  us  an 
absolutely  certain  regularity,  and  that  is  enough  here. 


38  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

/straint,  it  also  excludes  caprice.     That  is,  God  does  not 
fact  now  in  this  way  and  now  in  that  from  unreasoning 
choice.     But  the  divine  action  is  always  in  accordance 
with  the  laws  of  His  own  nature,  and  these  laws,  being 
of  His   eternal  substance,  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
they  are.      It  is  only  our  finiteness  which  prevents  our 
seeing  that  they  could  no  more  be  otherwise  )than  the 
three  angles   of  a  plane  triangle  could  be  less  or  more 
than  two  right  angles.     There  is  no  need  to  dwell  on 
this.     It  is  an  indefeasible  principle  of  the  system  I  am 
expounding.     And  though  I  have  known  the  time  when 
A  question  I  was  repelled  by  the  idea  of   accepting  such  a  Free 
ence.  Cause,  and  preferred  the  imagined  spectre  of  a  biggest 

Person  among  all  other  persons,  acting  as  smaller 
persons  do,  only  better,  I  have  come  myself  to  recognise 
that  the  God  of  Spinoza  is  much  more  exalted  above  the 
God  of  Calvin  than  the  Jahweh  of  Isaiah  was  above  the 
Baal  of  King  Manasseh.  Perhaps,  however,  for  the  justi- 
fication of  this  experience,  it  is  better  to  wait  till  we  deal 
with  the  Fifth  Book  c  Concerning  the  Freedom  of  Man.' 


APPENDIX  TO  PART  I 

The  following  is  a  substantially  accurate  but  verbally 
free  rendering  of  the  Appendix  with  which  the  Master 
concludes  his  First  Part  '  Concerning  God.' 

1  Thus  I  have  expounded  the  nature  of  God  and  its  pro-  Summary 
perties.     I  have  shown  that  He  exists  of  necessity,  that  He  theology!* S 
is  the  one  and  only  God ;  that  He  is  and  acts  from  the  sole 
necessity  of  His  own  nature ;  that  He  is  the  free  cause  of  all 
things,  and  how  He  is  so ;  that  all  things  are  in  God  and  so 
depend  upon  Him,  that  without  Himself  they  can  neither  be 
nor  be  conceived ;  and  finally  that  all  things  have  been  pre- 
determined by  God,  not  indeed  in  the  exercise  of  freedom  of 
will T  or  by  despotic  decree,  but  by  reason  of  His  absolute 
nature    or    infinite    (unconditioned)    power.      Farther,    as 
occasion  arose,  I  have  taken  some  pains  to  remove  any  pre- 
judices which  might  interfere  with  an  understanding  of  my 
proofs.     But  since  not  a  few  prejudices  still  remain  which  ' 
also  were  formerly,  and  are  still,  an  enormous  hindrance  to 
men's  adoption  of  the  system  of  the  universe 2  which  I  have 
expounded,  I  think  it  worth  while  here  to  subject  those  pre- 
judices to  the  test  of  reason.     And  since  all  the  prejudices  Prejudices 
which  I  here  undertake  to  expose  depend  on  the  one  ordinary  J^Ut  to 

assumption  of  men   that  all  things  in  Nature  act  like  men  the  test  of 

reason. 

1  There  is  no  contradiction  between  this  and  the  former  assertion 
that  God  is  the  'free  cause  of  all  things.'  The  latter  means  simply 
the  spontaneous  cause,  i.e.  acting  from  within  and  not  by  external 
compulsion.  But  this  does  not  in  the  least  involve  what  is  commonly 
understood  by  'free  will.'  I  have,  however,  often  to  acknowledge 
that  Spinoza's  whole  doctrine  of  'cause'  is  obsolete. 

2  Rerum  concatenationan. 


40  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

themselves  with  a  view  to  an  end,  nay,  even  regard  it  as  a 

matter  of  course  that  God  Himself  is  guiding  all  things  toward 

The  some  definite  end 1 — for  they  say  that  God  made  all  things 

not  made     on  account  of  man,  but  man  that  he  might  worship  God — I 

for  man.       g^u  consider  this  point  first,  at  the  outset  examining  the 

reason  why  the  generality  of   men  agree  in  this  prejudice 

Plan  of  the  while  all  are  hy  nature  inclined  to  embrace  it.     Next  I  shall 

exposition.  snow  tne  falsehood  of  this  prejudice,  and  finally  how  out  of 

it  have  sprung  prejudices  concerning  good  and  evil,  merit  and 

crime,  praise  and  blame,  order  and  confusion,  beauty  and  ugliness, 

and  others  of  the  like  nature. 

'  But  this  is  not  the  place  to  deduce  all  this  from  the  nature 

(1)  The  of  the  human  mind.  It  will  be  enough  here  if  I  take  for  a 
ideaofCfrei mam  principle  the  fact  which  all  must  surely  acknowledge, 
will  arises  {.that  all  men  are  born  ignorant  of  the  causes  of  things,  and 
couple<i ir  \  tnat  aH  nave  a  conscious  impulse  to  seek  what  is  beneficial  to 
with  ignor-t  themselves.  From  this  it  follows  that  men  suppose  them- 
cause.         selves  to  be  free  whenever  they  have  a  consciousness  of  their 

own  wishes  and  desires,  while  they  never  dream  of  the  causes 
by  which  they  are  inclined  to  desire  and  will,  because  they 
are  unaware  of  any  such  causes.  It  follows,  secondly,  that 
men  do  all  things  with  a  view  to  some  end,  that  is,  with  a 
view  to  something  beneficial  which  they  desire.  Hence  it  is 
that  they  always  seek  so  much  to  know  the  final  causes 

(2)  As  men  (purpose)  of  anything  done,  and  when  they  have  heard  this 
actfora^  tne^  are  sa^sne(I ',  because  indeed  they  have  no  reason  for 
purpose,  further  doubt.  But  if  they  cannot  learn  those  final  causes 
led^Isk  from  another  person,  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  look  into 
the  purpose  themselves  and  to  reflect  on  those  ends  with  a  view  to  which 
thing!*7'      they  themselves  usually  determine  on  analogous  actions,  and 

thus  of  necessity  they  judge  the  intention  of  another  being 
Die  pur-      by  their  own.     Farther,  since  they  find  by  experience  both 
in  themselves  and  in  the  outer  world  many  means  of  securing 
no  small  advantage  to  themselves,  as  for  instance  the  eyes 

— they  i  Compare  the  last  lines  of  '  In  Memoriam' : 

think — 

have  been  '  And  one  far  off  divine  event 

their  own  To  which  the  whole  creation  moves.' 

welfare. 


J)Os,-   01 

what  is 
useful  to 
them  must 


APPENDIX  TO  PART  I  41 

for  sight,  the    teeth  for   chewing,    herbs   and    animals   for 
nourishment,  the  sun  for  light,  the  sea  for  nourishing  fishes, 
and  so  forth,  thus  they  are  led  to  consider  all  natural  objects 
as  means  for  serving  their  welfare.     And  inasmuch  as  they  if  they  did 
know  that  these  means  have  been  found,  but  not  made,  by  °°Jhmt^J 
themselves,  hence  they  have  assumed  a  reason  for  believing  themselves, 
that  there  is  some  other  (being)  who  has  prepared  those  ^hit  or 6I 
means  for  their  use.     For  when  once  they  regarded  (natural)  beings  must 
things  as  means  (to  an  end),  they  could  not  possibly  believe  so. 
that   these   things   had   made   themselves.      But  from    the 
analogy  of  the  means  (instruments)  which  they  are  accus- 
tomed to  prepare  for  themselves,  they  plausibly  concluded  1 
that  there  existed  some  being,  or  some  rulers  of  Nature,  en- 
dowed with  human  freedom  of  will  (libertate),  who  had  con- 
trived all  these  things  for  man,  and    had   constituted   all 
things  for  the  advantage  of  men.     And  since  men  had  never  These 
heard  anything  about  the   disposition   (mind,  intention)  of  natiiral 
those   Rulers   of   Nature,    that    disposition   was   inevitably  beings  were 
estimated  by  the  standard  of  human  nature.     Hence  men  imagined  as 

adopted  the  idea  that  the  arods  order  everything:  with  a  view  to  animated 
1-,  ,  ,  i-i  by  human 

the  advantage  of  men,  in  order  that  they  may  bind  men  to  motives. 

themselves,  and  be  held  by  men  in  supreme  honour.     Thus 

it  came  to  pass  that  every  one  invented  for  himself,  out  of  This 

iPf*onTit"S 

his  own  head,  different  forms  of  worshipping  God,  all  seek-  for  the 

ing  that  God  should  love  them  more  than  the  rest  of  men,  dJve^y   , 

and  should  order  Nature  so  as  to  serve  their  blind  greed  and  cults. 

insatiable  avarice.     And  so  it  was  that  this  prejudice2  was 

turned  into  superstition  and  thrust  deep  roots  into  the  minds 

of  men,  which  superstition  is  accountable  for  the  universal 

straining  of  desire  to  know  and  explain  the  final  causes  of  The  search 

things.     But  while  men  sought  to  show  that  Nature  does  c^^ses  ends 

nothing  in  vain — that  is,  nothing  which  may  not  serve  man  in  proving 

.*  ,  »i.  •  i  •  universal 

— they  seem  to  have  succeeded  in  proving  nothing  except  ineptitude. 

that  Nature  and  the  gods  are  as  mad  as  men. 

1  Conchulcre  dehaerunt ;  say,  'could  hardly  help  concluding.' 

2  I.e.    of  anthropomorphism — the  attribution  of  final  causes   to 
Nature. 


42  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

The  other  '  Mark,  I  pray  you,  the  issue.  Amid  so  many  blessings  of 
shield  •  the  nature,  there  were  necessarily  many  things  unpleasant,  such 
apparent  as  storms,  earthquakes,  diseases  and  such  like.  And  men 
Nature.  held  the  opinion  that  these  things  happened  because  the 
gods  were  angry  on  account  of  wrongs  done  to  them  by 
mankind,  or  on  account  of  errors  committed  in  the  form  of 
Theological  worship.  And  although  experience  from  day  to  day  insisted 
contrary  to  an(^  proved  by  innumerable  instances  that  advantage  and 
fact.  disadvantage  befell  equally  and  without  any  distinction  both 

the  pious  and  the  impious,  not  in  the  least  on  that  account 
did  they  relinquish  their  ingrained  prejudice.     For  to  count 
The  Un-      this  among  other  unknown  things  of  which  they  did  not 
no  refuge     know  the  final  purpose  or  advantage,  was  easier  to  them 
here-  than  to  cancel  that  whole  system  of  thought,  and  to  think 

out  a  new  one.     Hence  they  laid  it  down  as  a  certain  axiom 
that  the  judgments  of  the  gods  far  surpass  human  under- 
standing; which  indeed  by  itself  would   have   been  amply 
sufficient  to  hide  truth  for  ever  from  the  human  race,  had 
Mathemat-  not  Mathematics,  which  does  not  deal  with  ends  (or  purposes) 
a°different    but  only  with  the  essential  nature  and  properties  of  figures, 
standard  of  discovered  to  men  another  standard  of  truth.1     And  in  addi- 
which  to      tion   to   Mathematics   other   causes   might  be  mentioned — 

measure       though  it  is  needless  to  recount  them  here — enabling  men  to 
the  world.  &  .  .  o 

take  note  of  these  universal  prejudices,  and  to  become  sus- 

/  ,  ceptible  of  guidance  to  a  true  understanding  of  things. 
'  /w-  '  I  have  thus  explained  sufficiently  what  I  undertook  to 
Final  "■■  deal  with  first.2  And  now  in  order  to  show  that  Nature  has 
ananthro-  set herself  no  fixed  purpose,  and  that  all  final  causes  are  but 
pomorphic  human  fictions,  there  is  no  need  of  many  words.  For  I 
prc  (  believe  this  to  be  sufficiently  established  both  by  my  demon- 

stration of  the  origins  and  causes  in  which  this  prejudice  has 
had  its  birth,  and  also  by  the  propositions  and  corollaries 3 

1  The  suggestion  is  ( 1 )  that  no  purpose  (or  final  cause)  can  be  assigned 
to  the  truths  about  space,  figure,  and  quantity.  They  are  because 
they  are.     (2)  That  such  truths  are  judged  by  reason,  or  intuition. 

2  Viz.  the  reason  why  the  generality  of  men  assume  as  a  matter  of 
course  the  reality  of  final  causes. 

3  Props,  xvi. ,  xxxii. ,  and  Corollaries. 


APPENDIX  TO  PAKT  I  43 

and  all  those  arguments  by  which  I  have  shown   that  all 
things  arise  in  supreme  perfection  by  a  sort  of  eternal  neces- 
sity of  Nature.     This,  however,  I  will  add  here ;  that  the 
above  doctrine  of  a  purpose  entirely  overturns  Nature.     For  Contradic- 
that  which  in  very  deed  is  a  cause,  it  considers  as  an  effect,  ^ ^J1" 
and  the  reverse.     Secondly,  that  which  in  Nature  is  first  it  in  the 
puts  last.     And,  lastly,  that  which  is  supreme  and  absolutely  doctnne- 
perfect  it  represents  as  most  imperfect. 

'For,  omitting  the  first  two  points  as  self-evident,1  that  The  doc- 
effect  is  most  perfect  which  is  produced  immediately  by  God;2  ^i  causes 
and  in  proportion  as  everything  requires  a  greater  number  makes 
of  intermediate  causes  for  its  production,  it  is  more  imperfect,  effects  of 
But  if  things  immediately  produced  by  God  had  been  made  ^^e 
in   order   that   God   might   thereby   achieve   His    (farther)  better  than 
purpose,  then  necessarily  the  last  things,  for   the   sake  of  e1ffem^iate 
which  the  first  were  made,  would  be  the  most  excellent  of  all. 

1  Then  again  this  doctrine  does  away  with  the  perfection  of  it  also 
God.     For  if  God  acts  with  a  view  to  an  end,  necessarily  He  q^1.®8 
desires  something  that  is  lacking  to  Him.     And   although  infinite 
Theologians  and  Metaphysicians  distinguish  between  an  end  per  e( 
sought  because  of  need  and  an  end  sought  by  way  of  assimila- 
tion, nevertheless  they  acknowledge  that  God  has  done  all 

1  We  are  referred  to  Props,  xxi.-xxiii.,  all  going  to  show  that  all 
finite  forms  or  events  being  modes  of  the  Attributes,  are  necessarily 
involved  in  the  Essence  or  Being  of  God  and  cannot  be  conceived 
otherwise.  This  being  granted,  a  final  cause  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms,  for  it  is  really  an  effect  involved  in  the  Infinite  Cause.  But 
these  subtleties  perhaps  confuse  more  than  they  explain.  The  common- 
sense  underlying  these  subtleties  comes  out  more  clearly  as  we  pro- 
ceed with  the  Appendix. 

2  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  the  impression  that  there  is  something  of 
the  argument um  ad  hominem  here.  To  Spinoza,  who  identified  God 
with  the  Universe,  everj'thing  must  have  been — though  even  this  is 
inaccurate — an  '  immediate  effect '  of  God.  He  is  truer  to  himself 
when  he  tells  us  that  we  and  everj'thmg  else  are  finite  modes  of  God;s 
infinite  Attributes.  But,  apparently  for  the  purpose  of  making 
himself  more  comprehensible,  he  here  argues  in  a  manner  that  seems  to 
assume  a  chain  of  causes,  some  nearer  to  and  some  remoter  from  God, 
a  mode  of  thought  fundamentally  inconsistent  with  his  philosophy. 


ignorance. 


44  ETHICS  OF  SFINOZA 

things  for  His  own  sake  and  not  for  the  sake  of  the  things  to 
be  created  \  because  before  creation  they  cannot  suggest  any- 
thing other  than  God  for  the  sake  of  which  God  might  act. 
Thus  they  are  inevitably  forced  to  confess  that  God  lacked 
and  desired  those  things  with  a  view  to  which  He  willed  to 
prepare  the  (necessary)  means — as  is  self-evident. 

'  But  we  must  not  omit  to  notice  that  the  adherents  of  this 
doctrine,  while  desiring  to  show  their  ingenuity  in  finding 
purposes  for  all  things,  have  brought  to  the  proof  of  this 
their  doctrine  a  novel  method  of  argument,  I  mean  the  appeal 

The  argu-    not   to  impossibility   (the   unthinkable)  but  to   ignorance ; 

1™"™°!™  which  shows  that  for  this  doctrine  no  other  method  of 
argument  was  available.  For  if,  by  way  of  example,  from 
any  roof  a  stone  has  fallen  on  some  one's  head  and  has  killed 
him,  they  will  prove  after  the  above  method  that  the  stone 
fell  for  the  purpose  of  killing  the  man.  For  unless  it  had 
fallen  in  accordance  with  the  divine  will  for  that  purpose, 
how  could  so  many  circumstances — for  often  there  are  many 
concurrent — have  co-operated  by  accident  1  You  will  reply 
perhaps  that  this  happened  because  the  wind  blew  and 
because  the  man  was  going  that  way.  But  they  will  insist 
upon  asking  why  did  the  wind  blow  at  that  time  1  Why 
was  the  man  going  that  way  at  the  same  time  1  If  again  you 
answer  that  the  wind  rose  then  because  the  sea  on  the  pre- 
ceding day  after  a  time  of  calm  had  begun  to  be  stirred,  and 
that  the  man  had  been  invited  by  a  friend,  they  will  insist 
on  asking  again — because  there  is  no  end  to  such  questions — 
but  why  was  the  sea  stirred  up  ?  Why  was  the  man  invited 
for  that  particular  time  1  And  still  continuing,  they  will  not 
cease  to  inquire  the  causes  of  causes  until  you  betake  yourself 
to  the  will  of  God  which  is  the  refuge  of  ignorance.1 

1  This  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  confounded  with  Spencer's  doctrine 
of  the  Unknowable.  The  theological  plea  of  ignorance  is  a  capricious 
choice  of  a  particular  limit  imposed  by  piety  or  authority  on  human 
knowledge.  Spencer's  Unknowable — or,  for  that  matter,  Spinoza's  in- 
finite Being,  endowed  with  infinite  Attributes  subject  to  infinite  modes 
— is  what  is  reached  after  the  freest  use  of  all  the  powers  of  human 
intellect  totally  regardless  of  any  authority  but  that  of  experience. 


APPENDIX  TO  PAET  I  45 

c  So  likewise  when  they  see  the  structure  of  the  human  The 
body  they  are  astounded,  and,  because  they  do  not  know  the  oTnaUire 
causes  of  art  so  great,  they  infer  that  it  was  not  constructed  referred  to 
by  molecular  force, l  but  by  divine  or  supernatural  art,  and  natural 
has  been  formed  in  such  a  way  that  one  part  will  not  injure  the  origins. 
other.     And  thus  it  happens  that  any  man  who  searches  into 
the  true  causes  of  miracles  and  who  endeavours  to  understand  The  fate 
natural  order  as  a  man  of  culture,  and  not  merely  to  gape  at  thoughtful, 
it  as  a  fool,  is  everywhere  taken  for  a  heretic,  and  irreligious, 
and  is  banned  by  those  whom  the  mob  adore  as  the  inter- 
preters of  Nature  and  the  gods.     For  such  interpreters  know 
that  if  ignorance  be  removed,  stolid  amazement — the  solitary 
means  they  possess  of  conviction  and  defence  of  their  authority 
— is  abolished.     But  I  pass  from  such  matters  and  hasten 
onward  to   that  which  I  undertook  to  treat  in   the   third 
place. 

1  After  men  have  persuaded  themselves  that  all  created  Origin  of 
things  were  made  for   their  benefit,  they  have   inevitably  goriefof 
considered  that  quality  in  each  thing  to  be  most  important  good,  evil, 
which  is  most  useful  to  themselves,  and  have  regarded  as 
most  excellent  all   those  things  by  which  they  were   best 
served.     In  this   way   they   must   needs   have   formed   the 
notions  by  which  they  exrjressed  the  nature  of  things,  such 
as    Good,   Evil,   Order,   Confusion,    Warm,    Cold,   Beauty,   and 
Ugliness.     And  because  they  think  themselves  free,  other 
notions  have  been  formed,  such  as  Praise  and  Reproach,  Crime 
(sin)  and  Merit.2    But  these  latter  I  defer  till  after  I  have 

1  Of  course  this  is  not  Spinoza's  word,  which  is  ' '■  mechanical  But 
1  molecular '  represents  Spinoza's  idea  transposed  into  modern  modes 
of  thought. 

2  The  patient  student  will  find  that  both  praise  and  reproach  and 
the  notions  of  sin  and  merit  have  a  full  and  adequate  place  in  Spinoza's 
own  doctrine.  That  is,  they  are  essential  elements  in  the  universal 
order.  E.g.  it  is  false  to  regard  praise  or  reproach  as  operating  on  a 
separate  faculty  called  Will,  that  is  subject  to  no  order.  But  it  is 
true  that  praise  and  reproach  are  part  of  the  forces  acting  on  the 
individual  microcosm  which  is  just  as  invariable  in  its  order  as  the 
macrocosm. 


46  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

treated  of  Human  Nature.     The  former,  however,  I  will  here 
briefly  explain. 

'  Everything  that  makes  for  human  welfare  and  for  the 
service  of  God  they  have  called  Good,  but  whatever  is  opposed 
to  these  they  have  called  Evil.  And  because  those  who  do 
not  understand  the  nature  of  things  have  no  explanation  to 
give  of  things,1  but  only  have  fancies  about  them  and  take 
their  fancies  for  understanding,  therefore  in  their  ignorance 
both  of  the  outer  world  and  of  their  own  nature  they  firmly 
believe  that  there  is  a  (conceivable)2  scheme  (or  system)  of 
The  notion  things.  For  when  things  are  so  arranged  that,  being  pre- 
or  plan  hi  sented  to  us  through  the  senses,  we  can  readily  picture  them, 
creation  an  and  consequently  remember  them  easily,  we  say  that  they 
are  well  arranged ;  while  if  they  are  the  reverse  we  say 
that  they  are  confused.  And  since  those  things  which  we 
can  easily  conceive  are  more  accordant  with  our  pleasure 
than  others,  therefore  men  prefer  system  (ordinem)  to  con- 
fusion— as  though  system  in  Nature  were  anything  more 
than  relative  to  our  imagination.  Then  they  say  that  God  has 
created  everything  on  a  system,  and  thus  in  their  ignorance 
they  attribute  imagination  to  God.3  Unless  perchance  they 
mean  that  God,  with  a  design  to  humour  the  imagination  of 
man,  has  arranged  all  things  on  a  plan  by  which  they  may  be 
most  easily  pictured  in  the  mind.  Nor  perhaps  would  they 
see  the  least  difficulty  in  the  fact  that  innumerable  things 
are  found  which  far  surpass  our  imagination,  and  very  many 
which  absolutely  stagger  its  weakness.     But  enough  of  this. 

'  There  are  other  notions  also  which  are  nothing  at  all  but 
modes  in  which  the  imagination  is  variously  affected;  and 

1  Nihil  de  rebus  affirmant. 

2  I  insert  this  word  to  bring  out  what  I  believe  to  have  been  in  the 
mind  of  Spinoza.  After  reading  his  doctrine  of  the  Attributes  and 
their  Modes  and  their  eternally  fixed  relations,  it  would  be  absurd  to 
suppose  that  he  denied  universal  order  {Ordo).  But  what  he  did 
deny  was  the  fancied  scheme  of  any  theologian  such  as  '  the  plan  of 
salvation,'  etc. 

3  As  though  He  were  an  architect  who  conceives  a  plan  and  works 
up  to  it. 


APPENDIX  TO  PART  I  47 

yet  by  the  ignorant  they  are  regarded  as  being  conspicuous 
attributes  of   things;  because,  as  we  have   just   said,  they 
believe  that  everything  was  made  for  them.     And  they  call  Epithets 
the  nature  of  any  particular  thing,  good  or  evil,  sound  or  ™od  *^d 
rotten  and  corrupt,  according  as  they  themselves  are  affected  evil  are 
by   it.     For   instance,  if   the   vibration1    which   the  nerves  man  oniy> 
receive  from  objects  presented  by  means  of  the  eyes  conduce 
to  satisfaction,  the  objects  by  which  it  is  caused  are  called 
beautiful ;  but  those  which  excite  an  opposite  sort  of  vibration, 
ugly.     Objects  again  which  stimulate  perception  through  the 
nostrils  men  call  fragrant  or  fetid,  those  (that  act)  through 
the  tongue,  sweet  or  bitter,  tasty  or  unsavoury,  and  so  on. 
Those  objects  which  affect  touch  they  call  hard  or  soft,  rough 
or  smooth,  and  so  forth.     And,  lastly,  those  which  affect  the 
ears  are  said  to  give  forth  noise,  tone,  or  harmony  ;  and  this 
last  has  befooled  men  to  the  extent  of  supposing  that  God 
takes  pleasure  in  harmonious  sound.     Nor  are  there  wanting 
Philosophers  who  have  got  the  notion  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  the  music  of  the  spheres.2     Now  all  these  facts  show 
plainly  how  every  one  has  formed  his  estimate  of  (outward) 
things  according  to  the  disposition  of  his  brain,  or  rather 
how  he  has  taken  the  affections  of  his  imagination  for  actual- 
ities.    No  wonder   therefore — as  we   may  observe   in  pass- 
ing— that  the  multitudinous  controversies  of  our  experience 
have  arisen  among  mankind,  and  from  these  controversies, 
in  the  last  result,  Scepticism.3     For  although  the  bodies  of  Differences 
men  agree  in  many  things  they  differ  in  very  many,  and  tion^nd3" 
therefore  what  seems  good  to  one  seems  evil  to  another  :  taste  show 

. '  that  there 

what  is  systematic  to  one  is  to  another  confused.     "What  is  is  nothing 

pleasant  to  one  is  displeasing  to  another ;  and  so  of  other  absolute 

things  which  I  here  pass  by,  partly  because  this  is  not  the  quaiiti.- 

perceived. 

1  Mot  us — I  do  not  attribute  to  Spinoza  any  modern  theory,  but 
vibration  is  as  good  as  movement. 

2  '  Sibi  persuader  hit  motus  celestes  harmonium  componere.'' 

B  Spinoza  means  by  this  something  worse  than  Agnosticism — un- 
named in  his  day.  He  refers  to  the  Pyrrhonism — a  name  probably 
quite  unjust  to  Pyrrho— which  held  that  there  was  no  means  of 
knowing  anything,  and  perhaps  nothing  to  know. 


48  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

place  to  deal  with  them  in  order,  and  partly  because  the  fact 

is  one  which  everybody  knows  by  experience.     For  every 

one  keeps  saying  "  so  many  heads,  so  many  ways  of  thinking," 

"  every  one  is  satisfied  by  his  own  way  of  thinking  " ;  "  the 

differences  of  brains  are  not  fewer  than  the  differences  of 

palates."   Such  proverbs  show  plainly  that  men  judge  of  things 

by  the  disposition  of  the  brain,  and  imagine  things  rather  than 

understand  them.     For  if  they  understood  things,  all  men, 

if  not  attracted  (by  the  truth),  would  be  at  least  convinced. 

'Thus  we  see  that  all  the  methods   by  which  ordinary 

people  are  accustomed  to  explain  Nature  are  only  modes  of 

picturing  things  j  nor  do  those  methods  reveal  the  nature  of 

any  object,  but  only  the  constitution  of   the  imagination. 

Entities  of   And  because  those  modes  of   imagination   have  names,  as 

nation*21"    though  of  entities  existing  independently,  I  call  them  entities 

not  of  reason,  but  of  fancy.     And  in  this  way  all  arguments 

brought  against  us  by  means  of  such  notions  can  easily  be 

repelled.     For  many  are  in  the  habit  of  arguing  thus  :  If  all 

supposed     things  follow  by  necessity  from  the  absolutely  perfect  nature 

tionTin0"     °f  Q°&)  whence  have  come  so  many  imperfections  in  Nature  ? 

Nature  are  For  instance,    the   putrescence   of  things,    with   disgusting 

as  parts       odour,   ugliness  of   things   exciting   nausea,  confusion,  evil, 

and  pi-opor-  crjme  anci  the  rest  ?     But  as  I  have  just  said,  they  are  easily 

tions  ot  the  *     .  -, 

whole.         confuted,     ior   the   perfection   of    things  and   their  value 

(valency)  is  to  be  measured  by  their  own  nature  solely ;  and 
things  are  not  more  or  less  perfect  on  account  of  the  delight 
or  the  offence  they  cause  to  men — because  they  are  favour- 
able to  human  nature  or  repel  it.  To  those,  however,  who 
inquire  why  God  did  not  create  all  men  so  that  they  should 
be  governed  only  by  the  guidance  of  reason,  I  reply  only 
that  there  was  no  lack  to  Him  of  material  for  the  creation  of 
all  sorts  of  things,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  grade  of 
perfection  \  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  because  the  laws  of 
His  own  nature  were  so  resourceful  (ample)  that  they  sufficed 
for  the  production  of  all  things  that  can  be  conceived  by  any 
infinite  intellect,  as  I  have  shown.1  These  are  the  prejudices 
1  Prop.  xvi. 


APPENDIX  TO  PAET  I  49 

which  I  undertook  here  to  notice.  If  any  others  of  the  same 
grain  still  survive  they  can  be  corrected  by  any  one  with  a 
moderate  amount  of  consideration.' 

If  it  stood  by  itself  this  Appendix   might  seem  to  A  caution 

against 

justify  those  who  have  accused  Spinoza  of  nullifying  not  hasty  con- 
only  the  sanctions  but  the  very  possibility  of  morals. 
But  it  does  not  stand  by  itself.  It  is  organically  related 
to  all  the  other  parts.  And  when  these  are  grasped 
in  their  entirety — but  especially  their  culmination  in 
Part  v. — it  will  be  found  that  Spinoza  leaves  the 
practical  facts  and  issues  of  morality  precisely  as  they 
have  always  been,  and  as  they  are  now  held  by  practical 
men  uncommitted  to  any  theory.  What  he  does  is  to 
offer  an  explanation  different  from  that  most  generally 
accepted,  but  more  consistent  with  itself  because  more 
accordant  with  things  as  they  are.  All  the  usual  sanctions 
of  morality — God,  Eternity — in  the  true  sense — reward 
and  punishment,  repentance,  remorse,  aspiration,  brotherly 
love,  Love  to  God,  aspiration  after  ideal  goodness — have 
as  much  a  place  in  Spinoza's  system  as  in  any  other. 
But  he  gives  them  a  profounder  security,  by  showing 
that  they  are  no  mere  ordinations  of  any  Will,  but  the 
eternally  necessary  results  of  that  divine  Nature,  which, 
in  its  Infinity,  is  absolutely  perfect  and  good,  though  the 
mutual  relations  of  finite  modifications  of  its  attributes 
are  not  always  accommodated  to  our  pleasure. 


PART   II 

THE   NATURE   AND   ORIGIN   OF   THE  MIND 

Problem  of  Our  study  of  the  First  Book  of  the  Ethics  has  shown  us 

the  Second 

Book  to      that,  according  to  Spinoza,  there  is  absolutely  nothing  in 

find  a  place 

for  finite     being  but  God,  His  Attributes  and  their  Modes.     That 
wlthm  the   is  to  say,  if  the  term  '  Atheism  '  or  '  No-God-ism  '  could 
God?1  e       eyer  be  accurately  used  to  describe  any  actual  form  of 
human  belief,  or  unbelief,  then  Spinoza's  position  was  the 
precise  contrary  of  this,  inasmuch  as  he  maintained  that 
in  all  eternity  and  infinity  there  has  not  been  and  cannot 
ever   be   anything   other   than   God,      Such    a   position 
necessarily  raises  the  question,  What  then  do  we  mean 
by  '  creation,'  by  finite  existence,  and,  above  all,  by  indi- 
vidual consciousness  ? 
Creation  So  far  as  concerns  what  we  call  'creation,'  we  have 

things.  already  learned  that  according  to  Spinoza  there  was  never 
a  beginning  and  cannot  be  an  end  to  the  Universe  as 
revealed  by  our  senses.  In  his  view,  the  impressions  we 
have  of  an  external  world  constitute  our  inadequate  idea 
of  the  infinite  number  of  things  which  eternally  follow  in 
endless  variety  from  the  necessity  of  the  divine  nature. 
Of  the  things  thus  involved  in  the  necessity  of  the  divine 
nature,  individual  things,  or  things  which  are  finite  and 
have   a  determinate  existence — such   as  stars,  planets, 

50 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    51 

trees,  animals,  and  all  the  various  objects  of  our  senses — 
cannot  exist  nor  be  determined  to  action  unless  by  means 
of   another  cause  which   is   also  finite,  and  again   this 
ulterior  cause  depends  on  a  farther  finite  cause,  and  so  on 
ad  infinitum}     I  have  already  suggested  that  this  merely  innumer- 
amounts  to  the  assertion  ot  an  innumerable  and  endless  endless 
series  of  successions  such  as  we  partially  picture  in  evolu-  changes 
tion,  and  devolution,  growth  and  decay,  the  whole  of  the  JJfty. 
innumerable   and   endless    series    being    comprehended 
within  the  divine  unity  of  substance. 

Now,  amongst  the  finite  things  thus  constituted  is  men.  Humanity: 

T     n  p        n    •  r  mind  and 

I  do  not  mean  man  as  a  race  ;  lor  Spinoza  was  so  far  a  body. 
'  Nominalist '  that  he  would  not  tolerate  any  idea  of 
species  except  such  as  results  from  the  compound  image 
formed  by  the  mind  when  trying  to  recall  a  group  or 
series  of  individuals  having  marked  points  of  resem- 
blance, too  numerous  to  be  retained  separately  in  the 
memory.  It  is  then  the  personal  man — myself,  yourself, 
himself,  that  is  Spinoza's  subject  when  he  discourses  of 
the  Origin  and  Nature  of  Mind.  Of  course,  he  has  in 
view  the  endless  varieties  of  individual  character,  and  is 
perfectly  aware  that  to  large  numbers  he  must  be  unin- 
telligible. But  he  is  inspired  by  a  faith  that  truth  must 
in  the  end  prevail ;  and  so  far  as  he  is  teaching  the  truth 
he  knows  that  his  word  cannot  die. 

For  the  purpose  I  have  in  view  it  will  not  be  necessary  scope  of 
to  do  more  than  give  briefly  Spinoza's  theory  of  the  rela-  chapter?11 
tions  of  body  and  mind  with  a  very  few  of  the  results 

1  See  Props,  xvi.  and  xxviii.,  Pi.  i.  It  is  true  that  nothing  is  said 
there  about  our ■  inadequate  idea'  of  the  Universe  of  finite  things  ;  but 
it  is  clearly  involved. 


does  not 
touch  evo- 
hitional 
origins. 


52  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

thereof  as  set  forth  in  his  Part  n.  If  the  word  '  Origin  ' 
stands  in  the  title,  we  must  not  be  misled  by  it.  For  he 
Spinoza  certainly  had  not  before  him  the  same  problem  as  Darwin 
and  Haeckel ;  though  their  conclusions,  could  he  have 
foreseen  them,  would  not  in  the  least  have  disturbed  his 
serene  contemplations  of  the  eternal  life.  Because  such 
conclusions  do  not  touch  his  doctrine  of  Substance, 
v  \  Attributes,  and  Modes.  However,  what  he  means  by  the 
word  Origin  here  is,  clearly,  the  immediate  cause  or 
causes1  of  the  finite  mind,  that  is,  of  any  personal  mind 
^v  \  now  in  being. 
Man  a  finite  It  will  be  remembered  that,  according  to  the  Master, 
tension  and  Extension  and  Thought  are  each  infinite  Attributes  of 
the  divine  Substance  or  God,  and  each  subject  to  an 
infinite  variety  of  Modes,  or  modifications,  which  Modes 
again  may  be  either  finite  or  infinite.  Of  the  finite 
Modes  of  Extension  and  Thought  man  is  an  instance. 
For  his  body  is  a  finite  Mode  of  the  Attribute  of  Exten- 
sion, while  his  mind  is  a  finite  Mode  of  the  Attribute  of 
Thought.  But  this  does  not  mean  that  mind  and  body 
are  two  essentially  different  things.  On  the  contrary,  as 
Extension  is  one  aspect  of  the  divine  Substance,  and 
Thought  is  another,  it  follows  that  mind  and  body  are 
both  finite  expressions  or  manifestations  of  the  one 
ultimate  reality.  Therefore,  if  we  would  follow  this 
teacher  accurately,  we  are  not  to  think  of  a  '  soul '  or 
'body'  in  the  ordinary  sense,  but  of  God  manifested 
under  finite  modes  of  Extension  and  Thought.      Thus 

1  The  reader  may  need  to  be  reminded  that  Spinoza's  notion  of 
'cause'  is  certainly  one  of  the  points  on  which  later  thought  tends 
irrevocably  to  diverge  from  him. 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    53 

Spinoza's  theory  is  at  least  free  from  the  difficulties  felt 
by  previous  philosophers  as  to  the  interaction  of  spirit 
and  flesh.  For  there  is  no  interaction ;  because  they  are 
the  same  thing  in  different  aspects. 

It  may  perhaps  be  suggested  that  any  practical  exposi-  Objection 
tion  of  Spinoza  on  these  lines  must  be  inconsistent  with  by  Sir  F. 
my  adoption  above  of  Sir  Frederick  Pollock's  criticism  on  criticism 
the  double  appearance  of  Thought  in  the  system.     For, 
if  the  critic  is  right,  as  I  have  acknowledged,  then  Exten- 
sion (or  at  least  consciousness  of  Extension)  is  only  a  Mode 
of  Thought,  and  therefore  only  one  Attribute,  that  of 
Thought,  is  cognisable  in  man.     I  do  not,  however,  agree 
that  any  inconsistency  arises.     For  Sir  Frederick  Pollock 
himself  says  that  his  criticism  leaves  the  practical  issues  does  not 

touch  the 

of  Spinoza's  philosophy  untouched ; x  and  it  is  with  these  practical 

issues 

I  am  mainly  concerned.  Indeed,  even  while  allowing 
that  Extension  is  a  Mode  of  Thought,  we  feel  it  to  be  so 
different  a  mode  from  feelings  of  pain  or  pleasure,  of 
desire  or  dislike,  of  ratiocination,  induction  or  deduction, 
that  it  is  easily  and  naturally  kept  apart  as  a  group  of 
forms  of  consciousness  clearly  distinguishable  from  those 
that  do  not  involve  the  notion  of  extension  or  space.  In 
this  sense,  while  fully  recognising  that  Extension  itself  is  Extension 

J  °  °  as  a  Mode 

a  Mode  of  Thought,  we  may  still  attach  significance  to  of  Thought 

.        sharply 

Spinoza's  theory  of  mind  and  body  as  the  same  thing  distmguish- 

t  on  -iTr  .,  ...         able  from 

under   different   aspects.      We    pursue    the   exposition,  other 
adhering  to  Spinoza's  method,  but  always  with  the  reser- 
vation above  stated. 

As  Spinoza  puts  it  then,  the  body  is  the  'object'  of  The  body  as 

1  Of  course,  what   I   say   here   is  only   my   interpretation   of    Sir 
Frederick  Pollock's  criticism. 


54  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

which  the  mind  is  the  '  idea.'     But  we  must  mark  the 

difference  between  Spinoza's  notion  of '  object '  and  that 

(xiii.,Pt.n.)  of    many  other  thinkers.      For  he  does  not  mean  that 

the  body  is  something  outside,  at  which  the  mind  looks 

as  through  a  window.     He  means  rather  that  the  body 

is   a   finite   mode   of  Extension,  whose   definiteness   is 

otherwise  realised  in  the  other  aspect  of  the  same  thing, 

that  is,  a  finite  mode  of  Thought.     The   two  aspects  are 

absolutely  inseparable,  because  they  are  finite  modes  of 

co-existence   and   essentially  related   Attributes  of  the 

divine  Substance,  or  God.1 

How  the         The  next  point  we  should  notice  is  that  the  mind  has 

the  body,     no  knowtedgejof  theJ)ody  except  through  mental  ideas  of 

inconsistent  bodily  affections.2     This  might  seem  a  truism,  were  it  not 

Slism.  6'  that  it  used  to  be  in  effect  denied  by  '  materialists.'     For 

in  assuming  that  the  mind  is  nothing  but  an  undefined 

order  of  molecular  vibrations  in  the  brain,  they  excluded 

altogether,  except   as   modes  of   motion,  any  'ideas'  of 

bodily   affections.     Nor   is  the  question  merely  one  of 

words,  at  least  in  the  view  of  Spinoza.     For  according  to 

him  every  finite  expression  of  the  Attribute  of  Extension 

has  a  corresponding  finite  expression  under  the  Attribute 

1  The  inseparableness  is  even   more  apparent  on   Pollock's  view, 
because  both  body  and  soul  are  different  finite  modes  of  the  same 
Pt.  II.,  Attribute  of  Thought. 

1 '  2  This  word  is  to  be  understood  as  including  all  sense  impressions  or 

internal  feelings.  Mr.  Hale  White  and  Miss  Stirling  in  their  excellent 
translation  prefer  the  word  '  affect.'  This  is  marked  as  obsolete  in  the 
New  English  Dictionary  ;  but  that  is  of  course  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  used  for  a  special  purpose.  But  since  explanation  is  needed,  it 
seems  just  as  convenient  to  use  a  familiar  word  with  the  understand- 
ing that  it  includes  all  possible  mental  impressions  or  feelings  or  efforts 
whether  usually  classed  as  perceptions,  emotions,  thought  or  will.  In 
an  analogous  sense  we  use  the  word  c  affections '  as  applied  to  the  body. 
We  include  under  the  word  all  possible  effects  wrought  on  brain,  nerve, 
muscle,  or  other  tissue. 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    55 
of  Thought,  and  also  innumerable  other  finite  expressions  Correlation 

of  Exten- 

under  the  other  countless  Attributes  of  God  unknown  to  sion  and 
us.     What  may  be  the  finite  expression  of  a  tree  or  a  with 
mountain   or   a   stone   under  the  Attribute  of   Thought  other 
apart    from   man    he    does   not   expressly  say,   though 
it    is    everywhere    implied    that    their    ideas    exist    in 
God.     But   if   Professor  Clifford's  suggestion  of  the  in-  Bearing  of 

•  t  n  i  i  n  Clifford's 

separability  of  matter  and  thought  be  adopted,  we  are  'mind- 
able  to  apply  to  all  creation  Spinoza's  theory  of  body  and  the  theory. 
mind.  For  he  holds  in  effect  that  the  human  mind  is 
God  thinking  of  the  human  body ;  and  if  so,  the  element- 
ary thought  of  '  mind-stuff '  which  Clifford  assumed  to  be 
in  all  matter,  is  God  thinking  of  that  matter  ;  or  to  use 
language  more  in  accordance  with  Spinoza's  phraseology, 
it  is  the  finite  mode  of  the  Attribute  of   Thought  corre-  All  <mind- 

°  stuff'  is  a 

sponding  to  the  finite  mode  of  the  Attribute  of  Extension  finite  mode 
in  the  tree,  mountain,  or  stone.     It  is  well  therefore  to  Attribute 
remember  that  though  Spinoza  regarded  mind  and  body 
as  different  aspects  of  the  same  thing,  the  mind  was  to 
him  the  more  easily  realisable  aspect. 

At  the  same  time  he  teaches  (Prop,  xxiii.,  Pt.  n.)  that 
the  mind  does  not  know  itself  unless  in  as  far  as  it  is  How  the 

Diind 

aware  of  the  ideas  of  bodily  affections.    This  is  a  doctrine  knows 
familiar  both  to  metaphysicians  and  poets.     Thus  Tenny- 
son sings  of  the  babe's  progress  : — 

'The  baby  new  to  earth  and  sky, 
What  time  his  tender  palm  is  prest 
Against  the  circle  of  the  breast 
Has  never  thought  that  "  this  is  I  "  : 

'  But  as  he  grows  he  gathers  much  Tennyson's 

And  learns  the  use  of  "  I "  and  "  me,"  metaphysio 

And  finds  "  I  am  not  what  I  see, 
And  other  than  the  things  I  touch.'" 


s 


56 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


not  to  be 
identified 
with 

Spinoza's. 


The  mind 
not  neces- 
sarily cog- 
nisant of 
all  bodily 


That  is,  the  mind  does  not  know  itself  unless  in  as 
far  as  it  has  the  ideas  of  bodily  affections.  But  we 
must  beware  of  thinking  that  such  poetry  or  the 
metaphysic  underlying  it  is  exactly  the  philosophy  of 
Spinoza.  For,  as  we  have  seen,  the  latter  would  not 
tolerate  the  notion  of  any  other  Substance  than  God ; 
and  both  body  and  mind  were  to  him  merely  two  finite 
modes  of  divine  Attributes  so  intimately  correlated,  that 
whatever  of  the  Being  of  God  was  expressed  by  one  of 
them  was  also  expressed  in  another  way  by  the  second. 

Here,  however,  we  must  pause  for  a  moment  to  guard 
against  other  misunderstandings.  For  it  might  be 
asked,  Does  Spinoza  mean  that  the  mind,  being  the 
body  in  another  aspect,  has  cognisance  of  all  that  goes 
movements.  on  ^n  ^Q  body  ?  Have  we  any  introspection  of  the 
action  of  the  arteries  and  veins,  or  of  the  cerebellum, 
or  of  the  grey  matter  and  white  matter  of  the  brain  ? 
Of  course,  it  never  occurred  to  him  that  such  an  in- 
terpretation could  be  put  upon  his  theory.  In  explain- 
ing why  it  did  not  occur  to  him,  some  reiteration  is 
inevitable  and  may  well  be  excused.  For  though  the 
Master  held  that  both  body  and  mind  were  finite  modes 
of  infinite  Attributes  of  God,  he  also  held  that  they 
could  not  be  isolated,  but  were  links  in  an  endless 
series  of  causes  and  effects,  all  summed  up  in  God. 
Now,  as  we  have  already  acknowledged,  his  doctrine  of 
'cause'  is  obsolete.  But  we  must  bear  it  in  mind  in 
prder  to  do  him  justice.  For  (Prop,  ix.,  Pt.  n.)  he  does 
not  look  upon  the  Infinite  as,  so  to  speak,  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  the  individual  creature,  but  rather  as 
the  cause  of  an  infinite  series  of  things  following  each 


THE  NATUBE  AND  OKIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    57 

other  or  connected  with  each  other  in  eternal  succession.  Restate- 
ment of 
Thus,  the  idea  of  the  individual  creature  m  actual  exist-  Spinoza's 

ence  has  God  for  its  cause,  not  in  so  far  as  He  is  infinite,  individual 
but  in  so  far  as  He  is  affected  (moved)  by  some  other  idea 
of  an  individual  thing  actually  existing,  of  which  God  also 
is  the  cause  in  as  far  as  He  is  affected  by  a  third  idea  of  an 
individual  thing ;  and  so  on  for  ever.  The  language  may 
seem  needlessly  technical,  though,  of  course,  it  is  not  so. 
But  it  just  amounts  to  this,  that  individual  things  are 
not  separate  creations,  but  '  parts  and  proportions '  of  an 
unbeginning  and  endless  series,  every  member  of  which 
is  dependent  on  every  other,  while  the  sum  is  God. 

But  Tow  does  this  bear  upon  the  relation  of  body  Bearing 
and   mind  ?      It  bears  upon   it  in  this  way — that  the  relations  of 
body  is  not  an  isolated  group  of  phenomena  whose  career  body, 
is  rounded  off  by  its  own  apparent  inception  and  ter- 
mination.     It  is  connected  in  both  directions  with  an 
unbeginning   and  interminable   series  of  what  we  call 
physical  events,  that  is,  successive  modes  of  the  Attri- 
bute  of   Extension.      Such    also   is   the   case   with   the 
mind  under  the  Attribute  of  Thought  and  that  Attri- 
bute's finite  Modes.      But  it  does  not  follow  that  the  Does  not 
two  are  so  related  that  every  molecular  movement  in  representa- 
the  body  corresponds  to  a  definite  wave  of  consciousness,  nnitJmind 
— or,  to  put  it  in  the  Master's  way,  calls  up  an  idea  in  j^tryevery 
the  mind.1     The  protozoa  from  which  by  a  long  course  [J^bodv 

1  Here  I  might  pray  in  aid  recent  doctrines  of  sub-consciousness,  to 
the  effect  that  there  is  a  considerable  field  of  mental  life  which  calls 
up  no  idea  in  the  mind  unless  in  exceptional  circumstances.  If  that 
be  so — and  I  strongly  incline  to  agree  with  the  doctrine — Spinoza 
may  well  have  been  more  fully  right  than  he  could  know  in  his  day, 
when  he  treated  the  body  as  'the  object'  of  the  mind  ;  though  it  is 
not  everything  in  the  body  that  becomes  an  object  idea  in  the  mind. 


58  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

of  evolution  the  tissues  of  the  human  body  have  been 
evolved,  had  indeed  'mind-stuff'  in  Clifford's  sense,  and 
therefore  the  rudiments  of  Spinoza's  conception  of  the 
relation  between  body  and  mind.  But  by  slow  evolution 
the  mental  faculties  have  acquired  a  concentration  and 
intensity  within,  as  it  were,  a  particular  area,  outside 
of  and  untouched  by  which  lie  the  merely  organic  pro- 
cesses which  are  forms  of  the  Attribute  of  Extension. 
Because      Thus  while  it  remains  true  that  the   body  is   a   finite 

such  move-  J 

mentsare    mode    of    Extension    whose    definiteness    is    otherwise 
incompre- 
hensible     realised  in  the  finite  mode  of  Thought  constituting  the 

except  as  .  . 

links  in  au  mind,  the  obscure  processes  of  the  body,  links  in  an 

endless  ;  ; 

series,         endless  chain  of  previous  and  succeeding  processes,  are 

not  necessarily  represented  by  ideas  in  the  mind — that 

is,  are  not  normally  a  part  of  consciousness.      At  the 

same  time,  they  form  no  exception  to  Spinoza's  principle 

that  every  Mode  of  Extension  is  correlated  to  a  Mode 

of  Thought.     Because  to  the  Infinite  Mind  every  process 

occurring  within  the  Attribute  of  Extension  is  eternally 

present.      'The  ideas   of  the  affections   of   the   human 

body  in  so  far  as  they  are  related  only  to  the  human 

mind,  are  not  clear  and  distinct,  but  confused.'     (Prop. 

and  such     xxviii.,  Part  n.)     The  reason  given  is  that 'an  adequate 

an  endless  . 

series  can    knowledge  of  external  bodies  and  of  the  parts  composing 

present  to  the  human  body  does  not  exist  in  God  in  so  far  as  He 
Thought,  is  considered  as  affected  by  the  human  mind,  but  in 
so  far  as  He  is  affected  by  other  ideas.'  That  is,  ex- 
ternal bodies  and  our  own  organism  are  links  in  an 
endless  series  which  cannot  be  present  to  a  finite  mode 
of  Thought,  but  only  to  the  infinite  Thought. 

It  is.  of  course,  obvious  that  the  same  argument  is 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    59 

applicable  to  the  mind's  knowledge  of  itself,  a  know-  The 

.  .  argument 

ledge  which  it  owes  to  the   body.      And  this    Spinoza  equally 
fully  allows.     But  at  the  same  time  he  holds  that  we  mind. 
have  a  faculty  for  'seeing  Him  who  is  invisible';  and  Coroi., 

l^rop   xxix 

that  when  this  faculty  is  freely  and  fully  exercised  we 
can  see  ourselves  not  as  isolated  links  in  an  endless 
series,  but  as  essential  components  of  an  Eternal  Life. 
When  that  is  achieved  he  dares  to  think  that  we  know  But  there 

is  a  know- 

ourselves  as  perfectly  as  we  know  God.     We  may  not  ledge  that 

all  of  us  be  able  to  adopt  this  confident  tone.     Yet  I  knowledge. 

hope,  when  we  have  finished  our  study  of  the  Ethics, 

we  shall  feel  that  even  for  far  humbler  mortals  than 

the  great  Seer,  there  is  '  a  vision  and  a  faculty  divine ' 

by  which  we  can  realise  and  triumph  in  the  Eternal 

Life  that  breathes  through  us. 

Should  any  one  still  think  this  clarity  of  religious  con-  Herbert 

.  Spencer 

templation  to  be  contrary  to  Herbert  Spencer  s  doctrine  again. 
of  the  Unknowable  as  affording  the  true  reconciliation 
of  Science  and  Religion,  I  can  only  ask  him  to  have 
patience,  if  possible,  until  the  completion  of  the  ex- 
position. Here  I  may  only  reiterate  the  remark  that 
the  aims  of  the  greater  and  the  lesser  philosopher  are  Difference 

t  no  t-i        n  •  of  his  aims 

entirely  different,     lor  Spencer  thought  it  necessary  to  from  those 
raise  the  question  of   an  ultimate  '  Actuality '  only  so  °    pi 
far  as  to  clear  it  out  of  the  way  before  proceeding  with 
his   synthetic  doctrine   of  phenomenal  evolution.1      To 

1  This  is  made  abundantly  clear  in  the  last  two  paragraphs  of  the 
Postscript  to  Part  i.  of  First  Principles  (Revised  Edition,  1900). 
Though  he  there  insists  emphatically  that  no  agreement  with  his 
doctrine  of  the  Unknowable  is  in  the  least  necessary  to  an  apprecia- 
tion of  his  '  orderly  presentation  of  facts,'  or  treatment  of  phenomena, 
lie  does  not  in  any  wise  withdraw  his  proposed  'Reconciliation'  of 
religion  and  science. 


GO  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Spinoza,  on  the  other  hand,  the  supreme  object  of  con- 
templation was  that  very  reality  which  Spencer  regarded 
as  outside  the  scope  of  his  main  work.  But  the  con- 
tradiction is  more  apparent  than  real.  For  Spinoza 
nowhere  treats  human  faculty  as  competent  to  under- 
stand how  one  infinite  Keality  is  constituted  by  the 
apparent  Many.  He  never  supposes  that  the  finite 
mind  can  see,  as  God  sees,  all  at  once  the  innumerable 
and  endless  series  in  which  both  mind  and  body  are 
But  the  Un-  infinitesimal  elements.1     For  Spinoza,  therefore,  the  re- 

kuowable  t  *  *  ' 

remains       conciliation   between   religion   and    the   science    of    his 

with  ° 

Spinoza       day  lay  also  in  a  recognition  of  the  Unknowable.     His 

no  less 

than  with    sense  or  the  unity  of  things  is  spiritual.      For  though 

in  his  strains  of  prophetic  fervour  he  dwells  on  '  the 

intellectual  love  of  God,'  it  is  clear  to  the  sympathetic 

reader  that  this  intellectual  love  is  the  apotheosis,  as  it 

J  were,  of  all  purifiediaciiltifis^  concentrated  into  an  intuition 

/  of  the  ultimate  one  Being,  which  our  life  in  God  enables 

I   us  to  .feel,  but  which  our  understanding  can  never  grasp. 

/  It  remains  true,  therefore,  that  the  ultimate  constitution 

of  things,  as   an   infinite   number  of  unbeginning   and 

\   endless  series,  is  unknowable.     But  it  is  also  true  that 

we  may  have  an  intuition  of  a  Unity  which  is  God. 

Need  for         The  digression  may  be  excused  as  an  effort  to  keep 

plication  "of  constantly  in  view  the  ulterior  aim  of  the  earlier  books 

anddepen-8  0*  tne  Ethics.     The  next  point  to  be  noted  is  that  the 

thfeon'      human  mind  is  fitted  for  many  perceptions  (ad  plurima 

variety  of 

bodily  ]  See  Pt.  n.,  Prop.  xxx.     In  this  and    the  following  proposition 

movements.  Spinoza  speaks  of  our  ignorance  of  the   '  duration '  of  finite  things 

including  our  own  bodies.      But  the  proofs  seem  to  indicate  that 

existence  in  a  particular  mode  is  meant ;  and  what  I  have  said  in  the 

text  is  clearly  implied. 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    61 

p&rvipiendum,  il,  xiv.),  and  becomes  the  more  fitted  for 
perception   in   proportion  to  the   number  of   modes  in 
which   the   body   can   be   disposed,.      If    there    is   any 
obscurity  at  all  here  it  is  caused  by  the  technical  mode 
of   stating    a    truth    obvious    to    common  -  sense.      For 
without  discussing  the  probability  or  otherwise  of  the 
once   notorious   Kaspar   Hauser's   relation  of   his  early  Case  of 
experiences,  it  is  certain  that  an  infant  recumbent  in  Hauser, 
a  fixed  position  with  no  object  to  gaze  upon  but  the 
roof  of  a  shed,  would,  if  he  were  so  treated  for  eighteen 
or  twenty  years,  be  an  infant  still.     But  the  child  of  and  of  a 
natural  growth,  who  runs  and  leaps  and  climbs,  who  child.' 
listens   and   looks   eagerly,   who   practises   innumerable 
movements  of  feet  and  fingers,  all  such  actions  being 
correlated  with  vibrations  of  brain  cells,  must  rapidly 
multiply  perceptions,  and  constantly  increase  their  clear- 
ness.    And  this  is  practically  what  Spinoza  means  in 
the  proposition  quoted.1 

To  this  theory  of  the  connection  of  bodily  mobility  The 
with  activity  of  mind,  Spinoza  leads  up  by  a  series  of  on  biology. 
interpolated  'lemmata,'  or  premisses,  which,  however, 
in  this  case  are  not  taken  as  granted,  but  proved  after 
his  method — together  with  certain  axioms.  Both  the 
axioms  and  the  lemmata  curiously  foreshadow  Spencer's 
fundamental  principles  of  biology.  But  the  Master 
excuses  himself  from  labouring  the  subject  any  farther 

1  If  the  case  of  intelligent  cripples  or  paralytica  be  thought  incon- 
sistent with  the  above,  it  should  be  remembered  that  these  have,  for 
the  most  part,  had  their  time  of  mobility  ;  and  besides,  under  move- 
ments of  the  body,  Spinoza  includes  all  tactile  and  visual  impressions 
of  the  social  world,  and  likewise  all  molecular  movements  of  the  brain, 
so  far  as  these  are  correlated  with  thought. 


62  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

than  is  absolutely  necessary  for  his  moral  and  religious 
aim.  For  a  similar  reason,  I  pass  on  with  the  remark 
that  this  dependence  of  the  mind  upon  the  multiplex 
modifications  of  the  body  becomes  ultimately  the  key 
to  Spinoza's  theory  of  salvation  as  unfolded  in  his 
concluding  book. 
Prop.  xvii.       An  interesting  but  curious  rather  than  convincing  use 

Impression      .     _      _  .  .  . 

made  by     or  the  lemmata  is  made  in  discussing  the  persistence  of 

ftyfcfti*n  sl  1 

things  only  impressions  made  through  the  senses,  and  their  transfer- 
moved  by  ence  to  imagination.  With  the  interworking  of  the  fluid 
affection  of  an(^  so^  parts  of  the  bodily  tissues  we  need  not  in  the 
shutting  present  state  of  physiology  trouble  ourselves.  But  the 
former6  Pomt  is,  that  an  impression  once  made  may  recur,  though 
the  thing  that  made  the  impression  is  no  longer  present. 
For  example,  a  boy  who  has  fraudulently  enjoyed  the 
luscious  fruit  of  a  forbidden  orchard,  may  find  his  mouth 
water  with  desire  for  a  repetition  of  the  feast  a  week 
afterwards  when  he  is  no  longer  in  view  of  the  trees. 
Nor  is  there  any  remedy  except  some  obvious  penalty,  or, 
far  better,  some  new  and  higher  ideal  of  honourable 
enjoyment,  which  shall  eclipse  and  exclude  the  idea  of 
the  fruit  in  the  boy's  mind.  The  application  of  this 
principle  to  many  other  forms  of  temptation  through 
persistence  of  ideas  is  obvious.  And  whatever  form  of 
religion  we  prefer,  it  remains  equally  true  that  the 
covetous,  the  lustful,  or  the  revengeful  man  is  liable  to  be 
haunted  by  fixed  ideas,  originally  conveyed  through  the 
senses  and  perpetually  recurrent  until  some  stronger 
idea  intervenes  to  exclude  and  cancel  the  evil  thought. 
Whether  that  stronger  idea  be  an  alleged  revelation  from 
God,  or  the  wrath  of  Allah,  or  the  love  of  Christ,  or  the 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    63 

enhancement   of    Nirvana,   the   principle    remains   the 
same. 

The  influence  of  impressions,  whether  for  good  or  evil,  Association 

r  °  g  of  ideas. 

is   enormously   increased   by   the   association   of    ideas, 

according  to  which  if  the  body  has  received  two  or  more  Prop,  xviii. 

impressions  simultaneously  at  one  period,  one  of  these 

impressions  will  at  another  period  call  up  ideas  correlated 

with  the  whole  group.     Thus,  a  slave  of  drink,  trying  to 

regain  his  liberty,  if  he  happens  to  hear  in  another  room 

the  popping  of  a  cork,  may  have  the  memories  of  jovial 

carousal  so  strongly  revived  that  in  the  absence  of  any 

stronger   idea   nothing   will   prevent   his   relapse.     And 

equally  it  is  true  that  a  young  man  away  from  home  and 

hesitating  on  the  verge  of  vice,  may  be  arrested  and 

recalled  to  virtue  by  a  strain  of  music  from  a  church 

door,  as  the  melody  recalls  the  religious  ideals  cherished 

in  a  home  of  purity  and  love. 

The   part   assigned   to   it   in  the  government  of  the  Function  of 

passions  and  the  realisation  of  eternal  life,  compels  us  to  and  its 

pay  particular  attention  to  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  know-v 

ledge.     And  for  the  practical  purpose  we  have  in  view  it 

is  better  to  discard  the  order  of  his  propositions,  and 

have  more  regard  to  the  needs  of  our  own  ordinary  minds 

than   to    the    scientific    precision   of    the    philosopher. 

According  to  him,  knowledge  is  of   three  kinds,  viz. : 

1.  That  of  unsystematised  experience  (expcricntia  vaga), 

including  hearsay  or  unsystematised  reading.     2.  That  of 

reasoning  or  logic.1     3.  That  of  direct  intuition — or  what 

1  «  .  .  .  ex  eo  quod  notions*  communes,  rcrumque  proprietaium 
ideas  adaqucUas  habemus,'  i.e.  '  from  our  progressing  common  notions' 
—common  to  our  kind,  a  current  coin  of  thought— 'and  adequate 
ideas  of  the  properties  of  things.' 


64 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


we  might  call  knowledge  at  sight,  only  it  is  mental  vision, 
instancesof  not  physical,  that  is  concerned.1  For  illustrations  of  the 
ent  kinds,  different  kinds  of  knowledge  we  may  with  advantage 
refer  to  the  Essay  on  the  Improvement  of  the  Under- 
standing. There  we  find  as  instances  of  knowledge  through 
unsystematised  experience,  the  information  received  from 
a  man's  parents  as  to  the  day  of  his  birth,  and  his  con- 
viction that  death  awaits  him  like  other  men.  Through 
unsystematised  experience  he  also  knows  that  oil  feeds  a 
flame  while  water  puts  it  out ;  that  a  dog  is  a  barking 
animal,  and  man  rational — of  course  in  the  general  sense 
of  possessing  the  elements  of  reason.  To  the  second 
kind  of  knowledge,  which  results  from  reasoning  or  logic, 
he  refers  our  conviction  of  our  two-fold  nature  as  body 
and  mind,  though  what  sensation  is,  and  what  the  union 
of  body  and  mind,  we  cannot  say  with  any  certainty. 
We  also  know  by  reasoning  from  the  nature  of  sight  and 
the  diminution  of  apparent  size  by  distance,  that  the  sun 
must  be  larger  than  it  looks. 

These  instances  are  elementary.  But  it  would  not  be 
difficult  to  find  many  appropriate  to  the  enormously 
increased  range  of  life  and  knowledge  of  which  we  are 
conscious  at  the  present  day.  For  we  may  take  it  that 
under  the  first  head  of  unsystematised  experience, 
Spinoza  would  have  classed  the  '  rule  of  thumb '  methods 
so  dear  to  British  handicraftsmen  and  manufacturers,  as 
|  Muddling  also  the  instinct  of  '  muddling  through,1  generally  recog- 
nised as  the  distinctive  glory  of  our  arms.     So,  too,  the 

1  In  the  unfinished  essay  '  De  Intellectus  Emendatione,'  knowledge 
by  hearsay  or  reading  is  kept  as  a  kind  separate  from  the  knowledge 
of  unsystematised  or  unreasoned  experience.  But  in  the  Ethics, 
though  the  two  are  mentioned,  they  are  classed  together. 


'  Rule  of 
thumb.' 


through.' 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    65 

practical  man,  who  knows  his  way  about  in  the  business 
world,  and  who  after  a  very  few  years  turns  to  gold 
whatever  he  touches,  has  his  knowledge  through  un- 
systematised  experience,  of  which  he  can  give  no  intelli- 
gible account.  It  is  to  be  feared  also,  that  the  knowledge 
of  most  of  our  politicians  is  of  the  same  kind,  with  the 
result  that  reforms  which  reasoned  experience  might  at 
least  hasten,  are  dragged  out  through  many  generations. 

Of  Spinoza's  second  kind  of  knowledge,  'reasoned 'Reasoned _ 
experience,' x  the  whole  range  of  modern  science  affords 
an  endless  array  of  illustrations.  For  it  is  founded  on 
definite  conceptions  shared  with  our  fellows  concerning 
the  properties  of  things.  For  instance,  if  we  may  take 
modern  examples,  the  common  notions  which  all  educated 
people  possess  of  weight  and  mass  and  direct  and  inverse 
proportion  enable  them  to  grasp  the  theory  of  gravitation  Gravitation, 
and  its  proofs,  though  not  to  say  what  gravitation  is,  that 
is,  whether  pressure  or  pull,  whether  action  at  a  distance 
or  not.  So  too,  the  possession  of  common  notions  and 
definite  perceptions  of  chemical  combination  have 
through  reasoned  experience  assured  scientific  men  that  Proportion- 
affinities  enable  substances  to  combine  only  in  definite  nation. 
and  unvarying  proportions.  But  whether  that  involves 
the  'atomic'  theory  is  altogether  another  question.  It 
will  be  observed  that  for  this  knowledge  through 
reasoned  experience  two  conditions  are  needed :  first,  a 
common  fund  of  ideas  (communes  notiones)  about  the 
order  of  the  world — for  instance,  such  facts  as  weight, 
or  the  tendency  of  various  substances  to  combine ;  and, 

1  The  term  is  suggested  by  Sir  F.  Pollock's  description  of  the  first 
kind  as  'unreasoned  experience.' 


66  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

secondly,  careful  observation  of  a  sufficient  number  of 
particular  cases  (rcrum  proprietatum  ideas  adccquatas). 
Thus  theories  can  be  formed  according  to  Spinoza's 
dictum  (Prop,  xl.,  Pt.  n.)  that  '  whatever  ideas  follow 
in  the  mind  from  its  adequate  ideas,  are  themselves 
adequate.' 
Possible  It  may  possibly  be  objected  that  my  interpretation  of 

objection 

on  account  this  theory  of  knowledge  as  applicable  to  modern  times 
definition  of  is  unsatisfactory,  because  Spinoza  means  by  'adequate 
ideas.'  ideas '  those  '  which  are  in  God,  not  in  so  far  as  He  is 
infinite,  but  in  so  far  as  He  constitutes  the  essence  of  the 
Answer :     human  mind.'     But  I  must  regard  such  an  objection  as 

that  this  is  .   . 

atheoiogi-  an  instance  ot  the  theological  misinterpretations  of 
terpreta-  Spinoza,  mentioned  in  the  first  words  of  this  essay.  For 
the  Master  is  not  thinking  of  a  personal  Jehovah,  or 
Allah,  or  Brahma.  What  He  means  is  that  such  ideas 
have  their  legitimate  and  proper  place  in  the  mind  as  a 
finite  mode  of  the  infinite  Attribute  of  Thought.  In- 
adequate ideas  differ  in  this,  that  though  they  also  are,  of 
course,  finite  Modes  of  the  infinite  Attribute  of  Thought, 
they  are  in  God,  not  merely  as  He  constitutes  the  essence 
of  the  human  mind,  but  also  in  as  far  as,  together  with 
the  human  mind  He  has  the  idea  of  some  other  thing  (or 
witchcraft  things).  Thus,  if  we  say  that  the  believer  in  witchcraft 
adequate  had  an  inadequate  idea  of  the  influences  which  troubled 
him,  we  mean,  as  I  interpret  the  Master,  that  the  idea 
was  in  God,  not  only  as  He  constitutes  the  essence  of  the 
individual  mind,  but  also  as  He  has  in  view,  if  we  may 
so  speak,  the  whole  course  of  human  evolution  through 
superstition  and  fear  to  a  participation  in  the  eternal  life 
and  freedom  of  God.     Hence  confusion  of  thought  on 


THE  NATUEE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    67 

the  earthly  sphere,  though  in  the  heavens  is  unclouded 
light. 

The  knowledge  obtainable  by  such  methods  is  neces-  inadequate 
sarily  limited     In  fact,  in  many  respects  Spinoza  is  an  suggest 
Agnostic.     But   the  instances   he   gives   are  curious  as  contingency 
illustrating  his  method.     He  tells  us  we  can  have  only  a  tion.corrup' 
very  inadequate  idea  of  the  duration  of  our  own  body,  or 
of  any  other  individual  things.     This  appears  sufficiently 
obvious.     But  he  is  not  thinking  of  the  uncertainties  of 
life  or  circumstance,  but  rather  of  the  constitution  of  the 
universe  as  an  innumerable  series  of  successions  amongst 
which   we   are   apt   to   exaggerate   our  part.     And   the 
eternal  process  of  change,  of  which  we  can  only  have  a 
very  inadequate  conception,  gives  rise  to  the  notion  of 
contingency  and  chance  or  corruption,  neither  of  which 
has  any  existence  but  in  our  inadequate  ideas.     For  to 
the  infinite  Thought,  comprehending  the  Whole,  there  is 
no  contingency  and  no  corruption. 

But  it  is  time  now  to  turn  to  the  third  and  highest 
kind  of  knowledge,  according  to  the  Master's  theory. 
This  is  the  knowledge  given  by  direct  vision,  as  when  we  Knowledge 
look  on  a  rose,  and  know  that  it  is  red,  yellow,  or  white,  inur** 
In  the  reception  also  of  some  moral  truths,  the  process  is 
just  as  swift  and  clear;  which  was  surely  the  experience 
of  the  common  people  of  Galilee  when  they  listened  to 
Jesus.  For  if  they  '  were  astonished  at  His  doctrine/  it 
was  certainly  because  it  was  so  overwhelmingly  plain. 
Yet,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  Spinoza  the  exact  philoso- 
pher somewhat  obscures  Spinoza  the  brother  o!  Jesus. 
For  the  former  tells  us  that  'this^  kind  of  knowledge 
issues  from  an  adequate  idea  of  the  real  essence  of  some 


68  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

of  the  divine  Attributes,  and  results  in  an  adequate  know- 
ledge of  the  essence  of  things.'1 
Spinoza's         Before  trying  to  show  the  practical  bearing  of  this 

illustration  J      &  l  ° 

by  a  self-    abstract  statement,  let  me  add  Spinoza's  solitary  illustra- 

evident 

case  of  pro-  tioil. 

portion. 

1  Here  are  given  for  example  three  numbers  for  the  pur- 
pose of  finding  a  fourth,  which  shall  be  to  the  third  as  the 
second  to  the  first.  Tradesmen  without  hesitation  multiply 
the  second  by  the  third,  and  divide  the  product  by  the  first ; 
of  course,  because  they  have  not  forgotten  the  rote-lessons 
they  once  received  without  any  proof  from  the  schoolmaster  ; 
or  else  because  they  have  tried  the  operation  often  on  the 
simplest  numbers ;  or  again  they  do  it  by  virtue  of  the  proof 
of  Euclid,  Prop,  xix.,  lib.  7,  that  is,  according  to  the  common 
property  of  proportionals.  But  in  the  simplest  numbers 
there  is  no  need  of  anything  of  the  kind.  For  example,  the 
numbers  1,  2,  and  3  being  given,  no  one  could  fail  to  see 
that  the  fourth  proportional  number  is  6 ;  and  this  the 
more  clearly  because  from  the  ratio  itself,  which,  with  one 
glance  we  see  to  be  borne  by  the  first  to  the  second,  we 
infer  the  fourth.' 

Probable  Here  the  Attribute,  of  whose  real  essence  we  are  supposed 
tion.  '  to  have  an  adequate  idea,  is  Extension.  Of  Extension 
motion  is  an  infinite  Mode.  And  from  motion  are  de- 
rived the  ideas  of  apparent  division,  measurement,  and 
number.  Thus,  according  to  Spinoza,  it  is  our  adequate 
idea  of  the  essence  of  Extension  which  enables  us  to  see 
at  a  glance  that  six  is  to  three  as  two  is  to  one,  It 
Needs  would  surely  be  a  waste  of  time  to  discuss  intuition  from 
such  a  point  of  view.  For  my  part,  I  believe  the  great 
thinker  to  be  right.     But  looking  at  things  as  we  needs 

1  The  translation  is  free,  but  I  think  gives  the  meaning.     (Part  n., 
Prop,  xl.,  Schol.  2.) 


explaining. 


THE  NATUKE  ANP  ORWIN  OF  THE  MIND    69 

must,  in  the  mood  of  the  present  age,  we  do  not  find  his 
illustration  carries  us  very  far  toward  an  appreciation  of 
the  higher  functions  of  intuition  in  the  spiritual  life. 
What  he  really  means  is,  that  if  we  see  things  as  God  The  real 

meaning 

sees  them,  we  see  them  truly.1     But  then,  what  is  meant  is  seeing 
by  seeing  things  as  God  sees  them  ?     With  inevitable,  God  sees 
iteration  I  reply  that  it  means  having  an  idea  just  as  it\ 
exists  in  God  so  far  as  He  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  1 
human  mind  and  nothing  else.     If  there  be  any  difficulty/Reason  for 
here,  it  is  caused  by  the  inveterate  tendency  of  mono-  apprehend 
theism  to  think  of  God  as  the  greatest  among  beings thls" 
instead  of  regarding  Him  as  the  only  Being.     The  former 
view  separates  Him  from  the  world  and  man,  so  that 
when  we  talk  of  seeing  things  as  God  sees  them,  we 
think  of  two  minds  and  a  parallelism  of  thought  between 
them.     That,  however,  is  not  Spinoza's  doctrine  at  all. 
For  him  the  human  mind  is  God,  at  least  in  the  sense  Man  not 

SPY)  IF  iff1 

that  it  is  constituted  by  a  Mode  of  a  divine  Attribute,  'from  God, 
And  if  probably  even  Spinoza  would  have  regarded  it  as  carnation" 
a  harsh  expression  to  say  that  the  human  mind  is  God, 
it  could  only  be  in  the  same  sense  in  which  St.  Paul  con- 
sidered it  absurd  to  suppose  an  eye  constituting  the 
whole  body.  But  Spinoza  had  no  notion  of  an  infinite 
Mind  away  in  heaven  thinking  things,  and  of  the  human 
mind  responding.     His  idea  was  that  of  One  infinite  and  Seeing 

.  .  things  as 

eternal  substance,  expressing  its  essence  in  many  ways,  God  sees 
of   which   the   human   mind   is   one.      Now   when  this 
mysterious,  finite  expression  of  God  keeps,  so  to  speak, 
to  its  part  and  proportion   in   the   universal   harmony, 
it  sees  things  as  God  sees  them,  that  is,  it  keeps  within 

1  See  Demonstration  of  Prop,  xxxiv. 


70  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

the  finite  Mode  proper  to  it  according  to  the  scale  of  the 
infinite  life.  Then  it  has  '  adequate  ideas' — not  infinite, 
of  course,  but  exactly  fitting  its  place  in  the  eternal  life. 
And  this  is  the  case  with  us — as  afterwards  appears  in 
the  Fifth  Book — so  long  as  we  can  keep  ourselves  within 
the  rule  of  reasoned  experience,  or  by  insight  have  clear 
ideas  of  truth,  and  duty,  and  right. 

inadequate  But  now  let  us  take  a  different  case.  This  mysterious 
finite  expression  of  God,  the  individual  mind  of  John 
Smith  struggling  to  exceed  its  part  and  proportion  in  the 
universal  harmony,  is  vexed  that  it  does  not  accomplish 
all  its  desires  or  receive  its  deserts  according  to  its  own 

their  effect  conceit  thereof.     It  notices  also  that  many  others  think 

on  our  view  . 

of  the         themselves    m   the   same  plight,   and  thereupon    feels 

world. 

strongly  inclined  to  take  the  bitter  advice  of  Job's  wife. 
Pessimism   Hence   pessimistic   philosophy,  bitterness   of   soul,   and 

and  super-  . 

naturalism,  presumptuous  or  even  blasphemous  charges  against  the 
order  of  the  world.  Hence,  also,  feeble-minded  sugges- 
tions of  pious  remedies  for  God's  mistakes,  by  the 
supposition  of  a  non-natural  annex,  outside  the  known 
universe,  and  divided  into  Heaven  and  Hell,  where  God's 
actual  arrangements,  as  we  know  them,  shall  give  place 
to  the  better  ideals  of  the  good  creatures  whom  the 
Eternal  has  hitherto  wronged.1     Any  such   mind   has, 


1  The  description  has  no  application  to  the  great  prophets  and 
apostles  who  fitted  their  place  in  the  due  order  of  religious  evolution. 
For  they  were  reverent  and  submissive  to  what  appeared  to  them 
the  undeniable  work  of  the  Eternal.  (Cf.  Rom.  ix.  19-20.)  Those, 
however,  upon  whom  a  new  revelation  has  forced  palpable  facts,  but 
who,  notwithstanding,  persist  in  declaring  that  they  will  not  have 
God's  universe  as  it  is — while,  for  certain  reasons,  they  may  well 
claim  sympathy— can  scarcely  be  religious  in  St.  Paul's  sense. 


THE  NATUEE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    71 

according  to  the  Master,  an  inadequate  idea,  or  rather 
many  inadequate  ideas,  of  the  relation  of  self  to  the 
Eternal.  Because,  in  exceeding  their  proper  bounds  by 
vain  desire,  sentiment,  or  greed,  they  travesty  the  idea 
existing  in  God,  '  not  only  so  far  as  He  constitutes  the 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  but  so  far  as  together  with 
the  nature  of  the  human  mind  he  has  the  idea  of  another 
thing' — or  of  an  infinite  series  of  things.  That  is  to  say, 
the  infinite  series  of  which  the  mind  of  John  Smith  forms 
an  infinitesimal,  though  necessary  link,  is  expressed  per- 
fectly in  the  infinite  Attribute  of  Thought,  but  very 
inadequately  indeed  in  the  finite  expression  of  that 
Attribute  in  the  mind  of  John  Smith.  And  when  John 
Smith  forgets  that,  he  necessarily  has  inadequate  ideas. 

In  the  lidit  of  such  reflections  I  interpret  Spinoza's  Truth  and 

°  falsehood, 

doctrine  of  truth  and  falsehood.  Obviously,  if  we  have 
an  idea  as  God  has  it — to  use  human  language — then  it 
is  true.  But  that  happens  only  when  the  idea  does  not 
go  beyond  the  finite  mode  of  the  infinite  Attribute  of 
Thought.     For  example,  the  idea  of  the   redness   of  a  in  matters 

of  percep- 

certain  rose  is  true  because  it  is  the  form  inevitably  tion, 
taken  in  the  particular  finite  mind  by  divine  thought, 
and  not  extending  beyond  that  mind.  But  the  idea  of 
the  nature  and  cause  of  colour  and  the  spectrum  is  a  very  in  theory, 
different  thing.  There  we  intrude  upon  divine  thought 
as  thinking  colour,  and  ether  and  motion  and  an  endless 
series  of  linked  causes.  Here,  whatever  surprising  dis- 
coveries we  may  make,  our  idea  remains  and  must  for 

ever  remain  '  inadequate.'      In  morals   again,  there   are  in  moral 

judgment. 
cases  m  which  our  judgment  is  self-evidently  true,  be- 
cause it  falls  precisely  within  the  finite  expression  of  the 


72  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

infinite  Attribute  of  Thought,  and  does  not  exceed.     For 
instance,  Nathan's  condemnation  of  David  for  his  sin 
against  Uriah  is  of  this  nature.     For  here  the   human 
relations  concerned  are  as  clear  and  as  much  within  the 
scope  of  the  finite  man  as  the  colour  of  a  rose.     But  if 
we  go  farther  and  accuse  the  Eternal  because  such  crimes 
are  allowed,  and  continually  occur,  then  we  question  an 
action  or  procedure  of  God,  not  only  so  far  as  He  con- 
stitutes the  nature  of  the  human  mind — which  condemns 
the  crime 1 — but  so  far  as  together  with  the  human  mind 
He  has  an  idea  of  another  thing — or  many  other  things  ; 
that  is,  once  more,  of  the  whole  course  of  evolution,  or  of 
all  the  infinite  series  which  constitute   the  totality  of 
Being.     Hence  our  idea  is  necessarily  inadequate  and 
confused. 
Falsehood        Our  judgment  in  this  latter  case — our  accusation  of 
butnega-     God — will  be  f alse ;  but  false,  not  because  of  any  positive 
from  actual  affirmation,  as,  for  instance,  that  David's  crime  is  repug- 
°gnoranceTy  nant  Wltnin  anv  range  of  human  relations  realisable  by 
essential      us-     Rather,  it  is  false  by  defect  of  knowledge,  because 
elements.     we  cannot  conceive  the  infinity  of  the  series  of  interlaced 
events  which  make  up  the  Whole  of  Being,  a  series  in 
which   David's   crime    finds   its   place   without  in   the 
slightest  degree  marring  the  harmony  of  the  Whole.     To 
Nathan   and  the  righteous  onlookers  in  Jerusalem,   it 
appears  indeed,  and  rightly,  a  terrible  catastrophe.     But 
on  the  infinite  scale  it  disappears,  or  is  a  link  in  the 

1  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that,  according  to  Spinoza,  God  does 
not  condemn,  any  more  than  He  hates  or  grieves.  But  the  phrases, 
when  used  in  popular  language,  express,  so  far  as  they  are  accurate, 
the  working  of  secondary  causes,  or,  as  we  should  say,  finite  links  in 
an  infinite  series  of  events. 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    73 

completeness  of  the  Whole.  The  prophet  spoke  a  far 
profounder  truth  than  he  knew,  when  he  said,  '  The  Lord 
hath  put  away  thy  sin.' 

1  Men  are  deceived,'  says  Spinoza,  '  when  they  think  Fallacy  of 
themselves  free  ;  which  opinion  rests  only  on  the  fact  that  win. 
while  they  are  conscious  of  their  actions,  they  are  ignorant 
of  the  causes  by  which  those  actions  are  determined.  This 
therefore  constitutes  their  notion  of  freedom ;  that  they 
should  know  no  cause  of  their  actions.  For  when  they  say 
that  human  actions  depend  on  the  will,  these  are  (mere) 
words  without  significance  (quorum  nullam  habent  ideam). 
For  what  the  will  may  be,  and  how  it  may  move  the  body, 
they  none  of  them  can  tell.  As  to  those  who  pretend  other- 
wise and  imagine  a  local  habitation  for  the  soul,  they  usually 
excite  ridicule  or  repulsion.'1 

Having   dealt  with  the  negative   character  of   false-  -J.  clear  and 

°  °  #  distinct 

hood,  Spinoza  maintains  that  he  who  has  a  true  idea,  conscious- 
ness of 
knows  that  he  has  it,  and  cannot  doubt  of  its  truth.     Of  truth  is 

.    ,        ,  .      .  .   .  ,       possible, 

course,  at  first  sight  this  is  open  to  much  misinterpreta- 
tion, as  it  might  seem  to  include  the  self-confident 
assertions  or  negations  of  ignorance.  A  pious  anti- 
Romanist  is  sure  that  a  plague  of  cholera  or  smallpox 
is  a  visitation  of  the  divine  wrath  upon  ritualism,  and 
proves  his  case  by  a  plausible  concurrence  of  dates  at 
which  the  ritualistic  practices  began  and  the  plague 
appeared.  Surely  this  man  knows — or  thinks  he  knows 
— that  he  has  a  true  idea,  of  which  he  finds  it  impossible 
to  doubt.  But  when  it  is  said  such  a  man  finds  it  im-  distinct 
possible  to  doubt,  what  is  meant  is  that  his  prejudice  and  judice. 

1  ii.,  xxxv.,  Schol.  The  above  quotation  is  given  here  solely  as  the 
Master's  illustration  of  the  negative  character  of  falsehood.  In  its 
other  bearings,  as  for  instance  on  moral  responsibility,  I  deal  with  it 
elsewhere. 


74 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Coincidence 
with 

Spencer's 
test  of 
truth. 


But  with  a 

religious 

sanction. 


Necessity 

and 

Eternity. 


self-will  hamper  him.  It  cannot  be  for  a  moment 
maintained  that  even  to  him  the  contrary  is  unthinkable, 
or  that  the  notion  of  a  coincidence,  without  any  casual 
connection  between  the  two  things,  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms.  So  that  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  in  my  view, 
interprets  the  Master  rightly  when  he  says  that  Spinoza's 
test  of  truth  is  practically  identical  with  that  of  Herbert 
Spencer,  which  is  the  unthinkableness  of  the  contrary. 
But  the  great  Pantheist  invests  this  test  with  a  sanctity 
wanting  to  the  modern  Philosopher.  For  he  says  that 
our  mind,  inasmuch  as  it  receives  things  truly,  is  part 
of  the  infinite  intellect  of  God;  and  it  is  just  as  inevit- 
able that  the  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  the  mind  should 
be  true,  as  that  the  ideas  of  God  should  be  so.  Here 
again  we  are  not  to  think  of  a  supernatural  Mind  away 
in  Heaven,  to  whose  thoughts  our  true  thoughts  are 
parallel.  But  our  minds  are — if  we  may  use  the  phrase 
— constituent  elements  of  God,  and,  so  far  as  our  thoughts 
are  the  finite  Modes  of  the  infinite  Attribute  of  Thought 
constituting  our  minds  and  nothing  else,  they  are  true. 

In  entire  consistency  with  his  fundamental  faith  in  the 
identity  of  God  and  the  Universe,  Spinoza  concludes  the 
Second  Part  of  his  Ethics  with  propositions  concerning 
Necessity,  Eternity,  and  Will  such  as  in  many  readers 
excite  a  revulsion  of  feeling  only  to  be  removed  by  his 
concluding  Part,  on  the  Freedom  of  Man.  Nevertheless, 
notwithstanding  my  own  personal  experience  of  the  moral 
difficulties  occasioned  by  these  propositions,  I  think  it 
better  to  give  my  paraphrase  of  their  essential  contents, 
without  any  attempt  to  forestall  the  Fifth  Book,  but  with 
the  hope  that  any  who  have  read  thus  far  will  have  the 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    75 

patience  to  read  on.     For  assuredly  the  last  Tart  gives 
the  key  to  the  religion  of  the  future. 

He  tells  us  then 1  that  to  the  eye  of  Reason — which  Reason  ac 
alone  sees  truly — there  is  no  such  thing  as  contingency,  no  con 

J  tingency. 

or  chance  ;  but  all  individual  things  or  events  follow  each 
other   in   necessary   sequence.      Of   course,    '  under   the 
aspect  of  eternity,'  they  co-exist.     And  if  we  were  capable 
of  seeing  the  whole  Universe  under  that  aspect,  there 
would  be  no  room  for  argument.     But  we  are  not  capable 
of  such  a  vision,  and  are,  for  the  most  part,  compelled 
therefore  to  contemplate  things  under  the  finite  aspect 
of  time  or  succession.     A  scholium  is  added  to  explain  How  the 
how  the  illusion  of  contingency  arises.     But  this  we  need  contingency 
only  touch  upon.     For  Spinoza's  own  intellectual  vision  ans 
was  so  clear  that  he  does  not  seem  to  have  realised  the 
need  of  ordinary  minds  for  ample  illustration ;  and  when 
reading  page  after  page  of  compressed  utterances,  preg- 
nant with  the  truths  of  infinite  Being,  we  cannot  repress 
an  occasional   irreverent  interruption  from  the   humble 
but  immortal  Touchstone,  who  mutters,  '  Instance,  Shep- 
herd,  instance ! '      In   the    present    case,    however,   he 
supposes  a  boy  on  one  particular  day  to  see  Peter  in  the 
morning,  Paul   at   noon,   and   Simeon   in   the   evening. 
Then,  if  next  morning  he  sees  Peter  again,  he  will  by 
association  of  ideas  expect  Paul  at  noon  and  Simeon  in 
the  evening.     This  association  will  be  constant  in  pro-  it  is  caused 
portion  to  the  regularity  with  which  he  sees  these  men  ignorance 
in  this  order.     But  if,  on  some  evening,  James  should  ol  caUt,es- 

1  Prop.  xliv.  Like  all  students  of  Spinoza,  I  am  immensely 
indebted  to  Sir  Frederick  Pollock's  luminous  monograph,  and  on 
this  particular  point  my  indebtedness  is,  if  possible,  greater  than 
usual. 


76  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

appear  in  place  of  Simeon,  the  boy  will,  on  the  next 
morning,  be  uncertain  whether  in  the  coming  evening  he 
should  look  for  James  or  Simeon.  The  reasons  actuating 
the  men  are  unchanged,  and  the  order  in  which  they  will 
appear,  though  variable,  is,  in  itself,  as  certain  as  before, 
but  the  boy  no  longer  knows  that  order,  and  therefore 
will  think  it  a  matter  of  chance. 
Case  of  But  other  instances  coming  more  nearly  home  to  the 

rising  stars.  °  * 

modern  mind  suggest  perhaps  more  forcibly  to  us  that, 
sequences  which  reflection  teaches  us  to  be  indubitably 
certain  are  treated  as  contingent  when  we  do  not  know 
their  causes.  Thus,  two  people,  having  noticed  the 
morning  and  evening  stars  at  various  times,  but  pos- 
sessing no  astronomical  knowledge,  will  dispute,  in  the 
absence  of  an  almanac,  as  to  which  planets  will  be 
morning  stars  next  month ;  and  the  dispute  will  grow  so 
keen  that  they  may  even  make  a  bet  on  the  event.  I  do 
not  forget  that  each  disputant  knows  the  event  to  be 
fixed  from  eternity.  But  this  makes  the  illustration  all 
the  more  apt.  For  it  shows  clearly  how  ignorance  may 
create  a  frame  of  mind  which  very  vividly  simulates 
contingency,  where  it  is  allowed  that  none  exists.  So  in 
a  horse-race  the  event  is  already  decided  when  the  horses 
come  to  the  starting-post.  For  the  speed  and  endurance 
of  each  animal,  together  with  the  skill  of  the  rider,  are 
all  fixed  quantities.  And  as  to  the  accidents  which  so 
frequently  deceive  the  most  knowing,  a  fall  for  instance 
or  a  foul,  or  temper  in  a  horse,  no  one  can  possibly  doubt 
that  these  all  belong  to  physical  sequences — even  the 
horse's  temper — which  are  as  sure  as  the  succession  of 
the  morning  stars.     Yet,  because  the  sequences  are  not 


THE  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    77 

known  beforehand,  they  are  treated  as  contingent,  and 
the  excitement  of  betting-men  grows  wilder  and  wilder 
to  the  last  moment  of  the  uncertainty  caused  by 
ignorance. 

One  of  the  most  curious  cases  of  this  simulation  of  Election 

,    •    ,  t  •   i.      •  i  i.  excitement 

uncertainty  where  none  exists  is  perhaps  our  treatment  before  the 
of  already  past  events.  Watch  a  group  of  eager  poli-  of  the  poll 
ticians  waiting  in  their  club  for  the  telegraphic  announce- 
ment of  the  poll  in  an  already  decided  election.  In  the 
eager  excitement  with  which  they  discuss  the  probabili- 
ties, they  show  almost  the  agonising  suspense  of  a  race- 
course madman,  as  he  watches  the  horse  that  is  carrying 
fortune  or  ruin  for  him.  Nay,  up  to  the  last  moments 
before  the  fatal  click  of  the  tape-machine  is  heard,  the 
arguments  as  to  the  strength  of  local  parties,  and  the 
popularity  of  candidates,  will  grow  hotter ;  and  bets  on 
the  result  will  be  offered  and  accepted.  It  is  impossible 
to  deny  that  in  this  case,  as  in  that  of  the  horse-race,  all 
the  excitement  and  even  the  passions  associated  with 
interests  staked  on  what  is  called  '  chance '  are  present, 
notwithstanding  the  concealed  certainty  of  the  event. 
Nay,  we  may  cite  as  witnesses  to  a  universal  subcon- 
scious sense  of  the  unreality  of  contingency  the  victims 
of  the  gaming-table,  who  so  often  have  a  '  plan '  that  is 
certain  to  succeed  if  only  they  can  hold  out  long  enough. 
For  what  is  their  reliance  on  the  '  plan '  but  an  acknow- 
ledgment that  even  in  what  are  by  pre-eminence  called 
1  games  of  chance,'  the  sequences  are  certain  ?  Here 
again  it  is  only  in  human  ignorance,  and  not  in  events 
themselves  that  contingency  exists.  This  might  be 
remembered   with   advantage,   when    we   are   told   that 


78  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

the  theories  of  Spinoza  would  rob  life  of  all  its 
interest. 
Eternity  Again,  as  the  eye  of  Reason  discerns  this  certainty  of 
and  eternal  succession  jn  au  things — though,  as  admitted,  it  discovers 
only  in  exceptional  cases  the  individual  links  of  sequence 
— it  must  needs  view  the  Universe  under  the  aspect  of 
eternity.  For  the  certainty  of  apparent  succession  is — 
in  human  language — a  '  law '  of  the  divine  nature.  That 
is,  since  God  is  identical  with  the  Universe,  things  are 
as  they  are  on  the  scale  of  the  Whole,  because  God  is  as 
He  is.  Whoever,  therefore,  realises  the  successions  in  his 
own  consciousness  as  links  in  an  unbeginning  and  endless 
series, '  lays  hold  on  eternal  life,'  because  he  feels  himself 
part  of  That  which,  '  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now, 
and  ever  shall  be,  world  without  end.'  The  detachment 
of  such  a  sense  of  eternal  life  from  the  lower  craving  for 
personal  immortality  is  best  considered  elsewhere, 
what  is  It  seems  more  difficult  to  follow  the  Master  when  he 

(to  'ad*  insists  that  our  knowledge  of  the  eternal  and  infinite 
perfect^  essence  of  God,  which  every  idea  involves,  is '  adequate 
of  God^ge  an(^  perfect.'  Spinoza,  however,  himself  relieves  us  of 
part  of  our  difficulty,  when  (Prop,  xlvii.,  Schol.)  he 
explains  that  we  cannot  expect  our  knowledge  of  God  to 
be  as  lucid  (clarum)  as  our  knowledge  of  finite  notions 
common  to  all  men,  such  as  weight,  number,  colour,  heat, 
and  so  on.  This  is  because  men  are  unable  to  picture 
God — that  is,  the  totality  of  Being — as  they  can  finite 
bodies ;  and  also  because  they  have  associated  the  name 
'  God '  with  the  forms  of  things  they  are  accustomed  to 
see.  Surely  this  is  obvious.  For  if  men  during  a  hundred 
generations  were  in  the  habit  of  associating  the  name '  god ' 


THE  NATUEE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    79 

with  thunder  or  storm,  or  heavenly  bodies,  or  trans- 
figured men,  it  is  very  difficult  indeed  for  the  more 
highly  developed  generations  succeeding  them  to  wrench 
the  name  from  such  narrow  associations,  and  iden- 
tify it  with  the  infinite  Whole.  Such  a  transference 
is  quite  irreconcilable  with  the  narrow  definiteness  of 
notion  which  every  mere  idolator  and  sectary  has 
associated  with  his  particular  god.  And  it  is  this  in- 
veterate prejudice,  assuming  God  to  be  outside  or  inside 
of  the  Universe,  but  never  as  identical  with  it,  which 
constitutes  still  an  apparently  insuperable  obstacle  to  the 
spread  of  more  spiritual  religion.  But  I  do  not  think 
that  Spinoza  intended  to  set  us  the  impossible  task 
of  knowing  the  Unknowable  'in  the  strict  sense  of 
knowing.'  For,  as  we  have  seen,  he  admits  the  impossi- 
bility of  a  clear  idea  of  the  whole  Living  Universe.  It 
appears  rather  that  when  he  insists  that  in  the  recog- 
nition of  the  Eternal  Life  we  have  an  'adequate  and 
perfect '  idea  of  God,  he  means  that  the  negation  of  that 
Eternal  Life  is  unthinkable.  Tennyson,  perhaps,  sang 
more  wisely  than  he  thought  in  the  words : 

1  My  own  dim  life  might  teach  me  this, 
That  life  shall  live  for  evermore.' 


For,  as  we  have  seen  (p.  7),  any  existence  at  all  implies 
infinite  Being ;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  only  that  we  have 
an  adequate  and  perfect  idea  of  God;  that  is,  His  non- 
existence in  Spinoza's  sense  of  the  name  God,  cannot  be 
thought. 

It  is  of  course  in  entire  consistency  with  all  the  fore-  No  un- 
going  that  the  Book  concludes  with  a  denial  of  any  such  win! 


80  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

thing  as  uncaused  Will.     For  the  mind,  as  the  Master 
says,  is  a  finite  mode  of  the  Attribute  of  Thought,  and  is 
therefore  a  link  in  an  endless  series  of  (so-called)  cause 
and  effect.     In  fact,  he  denies  that  there  is  any  such 
faculty  as  will,  except  as  a  conventional  generalisation 
of  individual  mental  acts.     If  we  like  to  call  the  general 
quality  of  stones,  stoniness,  we  may  do  so.     But  we  know 
very  well  that  there  is  no  such  thing  apart  from  separate 
and  individual  stones.     So  also  of  will ;  there  is  no  such 
thing  except  as  a  conventional  expression  for  an  indefinite 
number  of  separate  decisions. 
Doctrine  of      I  do  not  think  it  needful  to  discuss  Spinoza's  identi- 
affirmationS  fication  of  these  decisions  with  affirmation  or  negation. 
notnnfces°n  In  fact>  ^  would  seem  only  to  express  in  another  form 
present  0Ur  Spinoza's  doctrine  that  an  individual  act  of  what  we  call 
purpose,      -will  js  the  resultant  of  all  the  forces  or  influences  im- 
pelling the  mind  this  way  or  that ;  and  that  freedom  is 
realised  when  all,  or  the  decisive  determining  influences 
rise  from  within,  while  compulsion  is  felt  when  all,  or  the 
decisive  influences  press  on  us  from  without. 
Spinoza's         Spinoza  concludes  his  Book  on  the  Origin  and  Nature 
of  the         of  the  Mind  with  a  summary  of  the  practical  bearing  of 
c  ap  er.      ^.g  ^g^j^g  on  human  life. 

( Finally,  it  remains  to  show  of  how  much  practical  value 
cai^sesof"  a  recognition  of  this  teaching  is  to  daily  life,  as  we  shall 
his  doc-       easily  discern  if  we  note  the  following  points.     To  wit : — 

'  I.  It  instructs  us  that  we  act  entirely  at  the  beck  (nutu)  of 
God,  and  are  partakers  of  the  divine  nature  :  all  the  more  so  ! 

1  Of  course,  two  difficulties  recur  :  (1)  As  to  the  place  of  responsi- 
bility ;  (2)  as  to  the  possibility  of  •  more '  or  '  less '  in  partaking  of  the 
divine  nature,  if  God  is  all  in  all.  For  (1)  see  p.  45  n.  As  to  (2)  we 
can  only  suppose  that  Spinoza  refers  to  more  or  less  God-co?iscioxisness. 
But  it  is  premature  to  judge  of  either  till  we  have  studied  Part  v. 


THE  NATUEE  AND  ORIGIN  OF  THE  MIND    81 

in  proportion  as  our  doings  become  more  perfect,  and  we 
understand  God  more  and  more.     This  doctrine,  therefore,  It  shows 
in  addition  to  the  all-pervading  peace  it  gives  to  the  mind,  blessedness 
has  also  this  distinction,  that  it  shows  us  in  what  our  supreme  consists, 
felicity  or  blessedness  consists,   that  is,   exclusively  in  the 
knowledge  of  God,  by  which  knowledge  we  are  attracted  to 
do  only  those  things  which  love  and  piety  suggest.     Hence 
we  perceive  clearly  how  far  they  err  from  a  true  apprecia- 
tion of  virtue  who,  for  virtue  and  noble  deeds,  as  though 
these  were  utter  drudgery,   look   to   be  honoured  by  God 
with   richest  rewards.      Just   as   though   virtue   itself  and 
drudgery   for   God   were    not   itself    felicity   and    supreme 
liberty  ! 

1 II.  It  shows  us  how  to  bear  ourselves  in  regard  to  matters  makes  us 

four- 
of  fortune  which  are  not  within  our  own  control,  or  events  square  to 

which  do  not  result   from   our   own   nature ;    that  is,  we  aP  tjje    .. 

are  enabled  to  look  for  and  bear  either  aspect  of   fortune  time.' 

with  an  even  mind ;  and  this  because  all  things  follow  from 

God's  eternal  fiat  by  the  same  kind  of  necessity  as  that  by 

which  it  follows  from  the  essence  of  a  triangle  that  its  three 

angles  are  equal  to  three  right  angles. 

1  III.  This  teaching  is  advantageous  to  social  life,  inasmuch  in  social 
as  it  instructs  us  to  regard  none  with  hatred,  to  scorn  no  one,  teaches 
to  mock  no  one,  neither  to  be  angry  with,  nor  to  envy  any.  tolerance 
Farther,  it  teaches  that  each  of  us  should  be  content  with  his  tentment. 
own  lot,  and  should  be  obliging  to  his  neighbour,  not  from 
effeminate  pity,  favouritism,  or  superstition,  but  solely  under 
the  impulse  of  Reason,  according  to  the  demands  of  time  and 
occasion,  as  I  will  show  in  Part  III. 

1 IV.  Lastly,  this  teaching  offers  no  small  benefit  to  social  its  political 
order,  inasmuch  as  it  instructs  us  on  what  principle  citizens 
are  to  be  governed  and  led,  not  as  slaves ;  but  so  that  they 
may  do  freely  what  is  best. 

1  And  so  I  have  fulfilled  the  purpose  I  had  before  me  in 
this  Scholium,  and  thus  I  bring  to  an  end  our  Second 
Part:  in  which  I  think  I  have  expounded  at  sufficient 
length,  and  with  as  much  clearness  as  the  difficulty  of  the 

F 


82  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

matter  allows,  the  nature  and  powers  of  the  human  mind, 
while  I  have  uttered  such  principles  as  enable  us  to  infer 
many  glorious  truths  of  the  highest  utility,  and  needful 
to  be  known ;  as  will  in  some  measure  be  made  evident  by 
what  follows.' 


PART   III 

THE  ORIGIN  AND  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS 

The  English  word  '  affection/  when  used  as  a  rendering  Meaning  of 
of  Spinoza's  Latin  affectus,  is  so  liable  to  be  misunder- 
stood, that,  as  previously  noted,  Mr.  Hale  White  and 
Miss  Stirling  have  in  their  translation  revived  the 
obsolete  substantive  'affect.'  But  the  addition  of  the 
epithet  'mental,'  as  above,  seems  a  sufficient  guarantee 
for  a  right  understanding,  especially  if  we  accept  the 
authority  of  the  New  English  Dictionary,  where,  with  New 
sufficient  quotations  to  justify  the  view  taken,  the  Dictionary. 
'  general  and  literal '  meaning  of  the  word  '  affection  '  is 
given  as  '  the  action  of  affecting,  acting  upon  or  influenc- 
ing ;  or  (when  viewed  passively)  the  fact  of  being 
affected.'  In  reference  to  the  mind,  the  word  means, 
according  to  the  same  authority, '  a  mental  state  brought 
about  by  any  influence.'  This  latter  seems  to  me  to  be 
precisely   equivalent  to   Spinoza's   affectus.      It  is  true,  Our  under- 

standing 

indeed,  that  in  regard  to  appetite  and  pleasurable  excite-  notnega- 

tivi'il  by 

ment,  Spinoza  joins  the  body  with  the  mind  as  the  sub-  occasional 
ject  of  affectus.     But  we  should  remember  that  to  himfcothe 
body  and  mind  were  different  aspects  of  the  same  thing.1  0ri4ifof 

affections. 
1  Strictly  speaking,  finite  modes  of  two  infinite  Attributes  express- 
ing the  one  divine  Substance. 


84  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Besides,  in  the  cases  just  now  mentioned,  the  body  is 
brought  in  because  it  suggests  the  origin  of  the  affection. 
But  it  is  obvious  throughout  the  book  that  the  real  topic 
is  mental  affections.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  then,  that 
by  mental  affections  we  mean  any  '  mental  state  brought 
about  by  any  influence  other  than  Keason.' 1 

An  all-important  indication   of  the  purpose  of  this 
section  of  the  great  work  is  given  in  the  preface,  where  a 
Man  not      protest  is  uttered  against  any  attempt  to  place  man  out- 
oStoof*6  side  the  order  of  Nature.     Of  those  who  insist  on  this  he 
Nature.       says, '  they  believe  that  man  disturbs  the  order  of  Nature 
instead  of  following  it,  and  is  determined  by  no  other 
power  than  himself.'     But  prophet  though  he  was,  the 
Master  could  not  possibly  have  foreseen  the  curiously 
perverse  application  sometimes  made  of  this  false  doc- 
Tendency    trine  in  our  time.     For  it  is  too  common  to  read  in  the 
some  to  a    writings  of  the  expiring  sect  of  materialists,  unmeasured 
exaStatSn    abuse  of  the  order  of  the  world,  together  with  eloquent 
aLaS  the  exaltations  of  the  creature  man  whom  this  botched  world 
Universe,    j^g  managed  to  produce.     While  that  homely  Hebrew 
philosopher,  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh,  loved  the  wonder 
excited  by  '  the  way  of  an  eagle  in  the  air,  the  way  of  a 
serpent  on  a  rock,  and  the  way  of  a  man  with  a  maid/ 
these  pessimistic  critics  of  Nature  and  idolators  of  Man 
are  more  fascinated  by  the  way  of  a  cat  with  a  mouse,  or 
of  a  lion  with  an  antelope,  or  the  way  of  the  whirlwind  and 
the  storm.     Such  morbid  ponderers  of  Nature's  riddles 
cannot,  like  the  foolish  king,  express  a  wish  that  they 

1  For  further  justification  I  may  refer  to  the  '  General  Definition  of 
the  Affections'  at  the  close  of  this  Part,  where,  while  the  unity  of 
body  and  mind  is  strictly  preserved,  every  affection  is  an  Animi 
Palhema. 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    85 

had  been  present  at  the  creation  of  the  world  to  warn 

the  bungling  opifex  deus  of  the  mischiefs  he  was  brew-  An  illogical 

&       °     x  J  _  position  for 

ing.     For,  to  do  them  justice,  they  do   not  believe  in  those  who 
creation,  an  unbelief,  which,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  certainly  creation. 
a  sign  of  grace.     Because  it  ought  to  dispose  them  to  a  For  the 

absence  of 

recognition  of  the  certain  truth  that  eternal  self-existence  creation 
implies  perfection.    But  the  strange  thing  is,  that  looking  eternal  and 
on  the  Universe  as  an  infinite  muddle  endowed  with  a  perfect  self- 
paradoxical  faculty  of  keeping  discordant  and  mutually  exlstence- 
destructive  parts  in  co-existence  through  eternity,  they 
yet  believe  that  this  monstrous  chimsera  has  begotten 
and  brought  forth  a  being  gifted  with  faculties  of  orderly 
thought,  sympathetic  feeling,  and  ideal  aspiration,  such 
as  erect  him  into  the  only  god  known,  and  lift  him  to 
the  judgment-seat  from  which  he  can  condemn  and  curse 
all  that  has  made  him  what  he  is. 

Now,  since  every  modem  thinker  agrees  that  what 
used  to  be  called  '  chance '  is  out  of  the  question  as  a 
world-forming  or  world-maintaining  principle  (apx7l)>  it 
surely  follows  that,  whether  without  or  within  the  mass 
of  existence,  there  must  have  been  some  energy  guiding 
things  along  the  lines  they  have  taken  in  the  course  of 
evolution.1     True,  the  unfolding  which  we  call  evolution  incongru- 

°  ity  of  such 

can  only  be  observed  by  us  in  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the  a  Weltan- 
schauung. 
infinite  Whole — infinitesimal  even  though  we  include  m 

the  sweep  of  our  telescopes  galaxies  beyond  all  mortal 

conceptions  of  distance.     For  beyond  every  bound  of  our  For  it 

snssrests 
contemplations,  the  circumference  of  the  '  well-rounded  disorder. 

whereas 
evolution 
1  The  argument  here  is  from  the  point  of  view  of  time,  or  temporal  involves 

succession.     How  this  point  of  view  is  changed  by  an  appreciation  of  ord«r. 

eternity  will  be  seen  in  Part  v. 


86  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

sphere ' 1  to  which  Xenophanes  and  Parmenides  likened 
the  Whole  of  Being,  is  still  infinitely  distant.  Yet  if 
there  is  a  Universe,  a  unity  of  things,  we  may  confidently 
claim,  within  obvious  limits  of  reverence  and  common- 
sense,  to  judge  the  Whole  on  the  analogy  of  a  part.  At 
least  we  may  presume  congruity,  if  only  we  had  eyes 
to  see. 

Granting  this,  then  if  evolution  and  devolution   are 

proceeding  everywhere  with  the  self-consistency  which 

we  call  order,  the  eternal  process  involves,  as  we  have 

said,  some  energy  compelling  things  along  the  lines  of 

if  the         change  which  we  see  or  infer.      This  energy  is  either 

evolution     inherent  in  the  Universe  itself,  that  is,  in  every  part  of 

outsidettie  it \  or  it  is  something  other  than  the  Universe.     Which 

pSsSSsts   latter  view  has  been  and  is  earnestly  maintained  by  those 

Devil.11  a    wno  think  the  monotheism  of  the  latest  Jewish  prophets 

to  be  in  some  transmuted  shape  essential  to  morality. 

That,  however,  is  not  the  opinion  of  those  materialists 

who  imagine   the  Universe  to  have  produced   in   man 

something  better  than  itself.     They  sometimes  speak  of 

themselves  as  Agnostics,  who  do  not  know  whether  the 

energy  of   evolution  is  outside  the  world  or  within  it. 

incongru-    But  if  they  allow  even  the  possibility  that  the  driving 

ity  of  this  ,  . 

hypothesis  power  ot   evolution   is  some  outside  Being,  then  their 

fact  of        criticism  of  his  works  makes  him  a  Devil  rather  than  a 

existence.    God.     And  how  a  Devil  could  produce  a  creature  able  to 

think  of  him  justly  and  call  him  by  his  right  name,  is  a 

problem  which  surely  belongs  not  to  the  unknowable, 

but  to  the  unthinkable. 

1  irapTodey  cvkvkXou  <r<palpr}S  iva.Xlyiaoi'  oyxtp,  line    101    in   Karsten's 
FraymenU  of  Parmenides. 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    87 

On  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  no  Power  of  evolution  if  the 

energy  of 

outside  the  Universe,  but  the  Universe  itself  is  instinct  evolution  is 

.  everywhere, 

with,  that  energy  throughout  and  in  all  its  parts,  is  it  not  we  are 

.,,  ..  .        .     n    .  .  r  wrong  in 

just  possible  that  critics  ol  its  infinite  series  ot  succes-  judging  the 
sions  judge  things  too  exclusively  from  their  own  indi-  a  part.  " 
vidual  point  of  view,  forgetting  the  utter  unimportance  of 
this  on  the  scale  of  infinity  ?     In  contemplating  evolution 
their  eyes  are  fixed  with  horror  on  the  darker  phases — as 
they  think  them — of  its  line  of  advance   through   the 
'  struggle  for  existence,'  through  '  dragons  of  the  prime,' 
through  carnivorous  monsters,  through   fire  and  earth- 
quake, through  battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death ;   and 
because   these   phases,   irrationally  separated   from   the 
Whole  which  they  subserve,  are  repulsive  to  the  indi- 
vidual also  irrationally  detached  from  the  Whole,  such 
critics   are  moved  to   scold  at   Nature.     But   do   these  view  taken 
pessimists  attach  a  like  importance  to  individual  creature  selves  of 
interests  where  the  security  of  human  society,  or  their  interests' 
own   personal    safety,   or    even   '  sport '    is    concerned  ?  ou^wn.^ 
Which  of  them  laments  that  wolves  have  been  exter- 
minated in  this  country,  or  is  perturbed  by  the  process  by 
which  their  destruction  was  achieved  ?    Which  of  them 
when,  by  an  artful  cast  of  a  fly,  he  lures  a  salmon  to 
its  death,  feels  anything  but  pleasure  in  his  own  skill  ? 
Yet  vermin,  and  beasts  of  prey  and  creatures  of  '  sport,' 
have  each  one  of  them  individual  interests  of  their  own 
which  they  strive  eagerly  to  maintain.     And  if  it  be  said 
that  such  lower  individual  interests  ought  not  to  prevail  May  be 

•  •  n  •       applied  to 

against  the  higher  and  wider  interests  of  the  superior  our  own  on 
creature,  man,  surely  it  is  obvious  that  on  the  scale  of  infinity, 
infinity,  the  same  argument  may  be  applicable  to  the 


88  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

individual  interests  of  the  higher  creature.  I  am  not 
suggesting  that  there  are  greater  personal  beings,  or  one 
supreme  person,  to  whose  higher  claims  the  individual 
man  must  subordinate  himself.  I  mean  only  that  by  his 
essential  existence  as  an  infinitesimal  part  of  an  infinite 
Whole  man  is  bound  not  to  strive  beyond  his  place,  but 
to  take  submissively  his  share  of  expansion  and  repres- 
sion amid  the  everlasting  flow  and  counterflow  of  the 
currents  of  evolution. 

But  if  it  be  said  that  all  this  is  only  a  re-statement  of 

the  evil  of  the  world,  a  burden  to  every  sympathetic 

heart  watching  the  struggle  for  existence  and  forced  to 

take  its  part  therein,  we  can  only  fall  back  on  our  funda- 

The  world   mental  position,  that  the  world  does  not  exist  for  the 

not  for  the 

individual,  individual,  but  the  individual  for  the  world.      And  he 
dividual  for  who  will  not  loyally  accept  this  truth  must  needs  fret 

away  his  life  like  Hamlet,  under  '  a  foul  and  pestilential 

congregation  of  vapours.' 

Spinoza  teaches  a  healthier  faith,  insisting  that — 

No  vice  in  '  Nothing  happens  in  Nature  which  can  he  attributed  to 
Nature.  any  vjce  0|  Nature.  For  Nature  is  always  the  same,  and 
everywhere  and  always  her  efficiency1  and  power  of  action 
are  the  same.  That  is,  the  laws  and  rules  of  Nature,  accord- 
ing to  which  all  things  have  existence  and  are  changed  from 
one  set  of  forms  to  another,  are  everywhere  and  alwajTs  the 
same;  and  therefore  there  ought  to  be  one  and  the  same 
method  of  understanding  the  nature  of  all  things  whatsoever, 
I  mean  through  the  universal  laws  and  rules  of  Nature. 
Thus  the  affections  of  hatred,  anger,  envy  and  so  on,  when 
studied  in  themselves,  follow  by  the  same  necessity  and  force 
of  Nature  as  the  rest  of  single  phenomena.     And  accordingly 

1   Virtus,  a  word  scarcely  to  be  rendered  by  '  virtue '  here,  nor  yet 
by  '  valour.'     Efficiency  seems  to  come  nearest  to  the  meaning. 


THE  NATUEE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    89 

they  imply  certain  causes  through  which  they  are  understood, 
and  they  have  certain  characteristics,1  just  as  much  worth  our 
study  as  the  characteristics  of  anything  else  which  delights 
us  by  its  mere  contemplation.' 

The  definitions,  axioms,  and  propositions  of  Part  in.  Rest  of 

'  r     r  .  Part  in.  a 

form  a  practical  application  of  the  foregoing  prefatory  practical 
observations  with  a  view  to  the  ulterior  moral  results  to  0f  the  fore- 
be  worked  out  in  Part  v.     But  should  it  occur  to  any  TviewTo 
one  that  moral  teaching  and  exhortation  can  be  of  no  use  moral* 
if  the  '  force  and  necessity  of  Nature  are  always  and results< 
everywhere  the  same,'  let  such  an  one  remember  that 
moral  teaching  and  exhortation  are  also  essential  elements 


. 


in  that  '  force  and   necessity.'     The   most   stirring   and  Fallacy 

.  J     ,        of  the 

potent '  revivalist '  of  morals  or  religion,  or  of  both,  does  supposed 

iT»  -i         -i  •  oi'  '  i    opposition 

but  bring  to  bear  upon  the  objects  or  his  prophetic  work  between 
certain  forces  that  range  the  world  of  man,  whether  they  acti0n  and 
be  called  '  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost '  or  '  the  powers  ^cedents?" 
of  the  world  to  come/  or  'personal  magnetism.'  And 
when  these  forces  so  work  within  the  individual  hearer 
that  the  resultant  of  all  impulses  within  him  is  a  change 
from  vice  to  virtue,  the  subject  of  these  influences  realises 
a  freedom  that  he  never  knew  before,  because  he  is  now 
no  longer  in  bondage  to  external  provocatives  of  passion. 
This,  as  Spinoza  insists,  is  true  freedom ;  but  it  is  given 
and  it  is  maintained  in  accordance  with  '  the  force  and 
necessity  of  Nature.'  Surely  it  ought  to  be  no  discour- 
agement to  our  moral  efforts  that  they  must  be  made  in 
accordance  with  eternal  law,  any  more  than  the  same 
consideration  deprives  of  interest  a  great  engineering 
work.     '  No,  of  course  not ! '  say  the  advocates  of  uncaused 

1  Proprictatcs. 


90 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Some 
definitions. 


Adequate 
and  in- 
adequate 
causes. 


volitions,  '  but  in  both  cases  the  beginning  of  the  work  is 
spontaneous.'  That  is,  as  I  understand,  the  impulse  to 
begin  arises  in  the  originator  free  of  any  felt  compulsion 
from  without.  This  is  readily  granted  ;  for  it  is  precisely 
Spinoza's  doctrine  of  liberty.  But,  all  the  same,  though 
the  mind  is  as  unconscious  of  the  fact,  as  it  is  of  the 
antecedents  of  the  particles  forming  its  body,  that  internal 
impulse  has  an  eternal  history  developed  by  the  '  force 
and  necessity  of  Nature.' 

Such  explanations  may  be  of  service  in  enabling  us  to 
abbreviate  very  considerably  our  paraphrase  of  Part  III. 
By  an  'adequate  cause'  the  Master  means  a  cause  of 
which  the  effect  can  be  clearly  and  distinctly  grasped 
without  reference  to  anything  but  that  particular  cause,1 
An  inadequate  or  partial  cause  is  one  of  which  the  effect 
cannot  be  understood  through  that  cause  alone.  Perhaps 
one  may  venture  to  illustrate  this.  If  I  put  my  hand 
into  a  fire  and  am  painfully  burned,  I  need  no  other 
explanation  than  the  heat  of  the  fire.  Of  my  feeling — 
though  not  of  my  action — the  fire  is  an  '  adequate  cause.' 
But  if  metal-workers — as  we  are  told  that  they  can  do 
with  impunity — dip  their  hands  into  molten  iron  for  a 
second,  and  experience  only  a  pleasant,  'velvety'  warmth, 
the  effect  cannot  be  understood  through  the  molten  metal 
alone.  But  considerations  of  skin  moisture  arise,  and  the 
intervention  of  a  protective  vapour.  Here  the  molten 
metal  is  an  '  inadequate  cause.' 

1  It  may  be  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that  this  notion  of  a 
particular  cause  is  open  to  destructive  criticism.  In  each  case  the 
'cause'  is  the  whole  of  Being,  in  its  eternal  energy.  Spinoza's  'ade- 
quate cause '  is  really  that  particular  link  in  the  eternal  chain  which 
fixes  the  attention  of  consciousness  because  it  seems  proximate. 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    91 

The  purpose  of  the  above  definitions  is  immediately 
apparent.      'I  say  that  we  act' — or  are  agents — '  when  £san  ade-^ 
anything  is  done  within  us  or  without,  of  which  we  are  we  are 

J  °  active ;  as 

the  adequate  cause ;  that  is  (by  the  preceding  definition),  inadequate, 
when  from  our  nature  anything  follows  within  us  or 
without,  which  through  that  nature  alone  can  be  clearly 
and  distinctly  understood.  On  the  other  hand,  I  say  that 
we  are  passive  when  anything  is  done  within  us  or  any- 
thing follows' — or  is  occasioned  by — 'our  nature,  of 
which  we  are  only  in  part  the  cause.'  Here  again, 
perhaps,  we  may  venture  to  illustrate.  If  a  labouring 
man  stops  on  his  way  home  to  buy  a  bunch  of  flowers  or 
a  present  of  fruit  and  takes  it  home  to  his  wife,  he  is  '  the 
adequate  cause '  of  his  wife's  pleasure,  and  is  a  free  agent, 
because  what  happens  both  within  him  and  at  his  home 
follows  entirely  from  his  nature.  But  if  instead  of  going 
into  a  flower-  and  a  fruit-shop,  he  turns  into  a  public- 
house,  and  is  plied  with  drink  till  he  is  '  not  himself,'  and 
if  in  the  sequel  he  goes  home  to  abuse  his  wife  and 
assault  her,  he  is  not  in  this  case  an  '  adequate  cause.' 
The  evil  procedure  and  actions  cannot  be  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly understood  through  his  nature.  For  the  normal 
working  of  his  nature  is  perverted  by  social  custom  and 
alcohol.  He  is  not  a  free  agent  therefore.  That  is,  he 
does  not  act,  but  suffers.1 

The  affections  or  impressions  discussed  in  this  Third  Definition 

of  affec- 
Part  include  everything  by  which  the  body's  power  of  tions. 

action  is  helped  or  hindered,  together  with   the   ideas 

1  Once  more  a  warning  against  illegitimate  inferences.  It  does  not 
follow  that  because  he  is  not  an  'adequate  cause,'  therefore  he  is  not 
to  be  blamed.  Blame  and  punishment  are  resources  of  this  '  force  and 
necessity  of  Nature'  fur  turning  inadequate  into  adequate  causes. 


92  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

thereof.  Now  manifestly  the  last  words  here  are  most 
important.  For  though  according  to  the  Master,  man  is 
a  finite  mode  of  two  Attributes,  Extension  and  Thought, 
it  is  by  Thought  alone  that  Extension  is  realised.  And 
apart  from  the  former — as  indeed  Sir  Frederick  Pollock 
has  shown — the  latter  is  nothing.  Therefore  to  us  the 
ideas  of  the  bodily  affections,  or  impressions,  are  more 
than  the  affections  or  impressions  themselves.  And 
hence  I  persist  in  thinking  this  Part  of  the  Ethica  to  be 
concerned  with  mental  affections. 
God  and  After  repeating  in  the  form  of  a  proposition  the  defini- 

tion already  given  of  action  and  passivity  Spinoza  makes 
an  interesting  addition,  which  requires  us  to  keep  closely 
in  mind  his  doctrine  that  the  human  mind  is  God  thinking 
in  a  finite  form.  For  he  teaches  that  ideas  which  in  the 
mind  of  any  man  are  adequate,  are  adequate  also  in  God 
in  as  far  as  He  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  human 
qu°ate Ideas  mmd-  But  those  ideas  which  are  inadequate  in  man  are 
in  God.  nevertheless  adequate  in  God,  not  in  so  far  as  He  contains 
only  the  essence  of  the  mind,  but  inasmuch  as  He  con- 
tains within  Himself  also  the  ideal  side — literally  '  the 
minds ' 1 — of  other  things.  "We  may  here  recur  to  our 
illustration  above.  The  poor  man  who  plays  the  good 
husband  has  an  adequate  idea  which  enables  him  to  be 
an  adequate  cause.  And  the  adequate  idea  of  love  and 
duty  simply  expresses  God  as  constituting  the  essence  of 
the  man's  mind.     But  when  he  is  overcome  by  drink  and 

1  Mr.  Hale  White  and  Miss  Stirling  regard  this  word  (mentes)  as  a 
misprint  or  scribal  error  for  'ideas.'  I  am  not  so  sure.  Not  the 
human  body  only,  but  all  individual  things  are  finite  expressions  of 
the  Attributes  of  Extension  and  Thought.  In  the  latter  aspect  even 
stones  must  have  their  '  mind ' — though,  of  course,  incommensurate 
with  the  human  mind. 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    93 

violence,  he  has  no  longer  an  adequate  idea,  nor  is  he  an 
adequate  cause.  Yet  still  the  inadequate  idea — say,  of 
impossible,  selfish  isolation  in  pleasure — is  adequate  in 
God,  because  in  the  divine  mind  there  is  not  only  the 
idea  of  the  momentary  passion,  but  at  the  same  time  of 
the  long  course  of  moral  evolution  from  worse  to  better, 
in  which  such  trials  and  failures  are  inevitable  steps. 

The  next  important  doctrine  is  that  the  mind  is  active  Distinction 

,  .  of  action 

when  it  has  adequate  ideas,  and  passive — or  subject  to  and  passion. 

passion — when  it  has  inadequate  ideas.     This,  of  course, 

does  not  mean  that  every  man  of  action,  such  as  Napoleon  Prop.  m. 

Bonaparte,  has  adequate  ideas.     Far  from  it.      For  to 

Spinoza,  the  self-centred  ambition  of  such  men  appeared 

to  be  generated  by  very  inadequate  ideas  indeed,  and  to  be 

a  form  of  slavish  passion.     Pieferring  back  to  the  defini-  Depends 

•  pi  i  •  t  upon  the 

tion  previously  given  of  adequate  and  inadequate  ideas,  difference 
we  remember  that  the  former  are  limited  modes  of  infinite  adequate 
Thought  constituting  the  essence  of  the  human  mind  quateideas. 
concerned,  but   not  including   anything  else.     Whereas 
inadequate  ideas  are  only  fragments  of  a  divine  thought 
which  here  includes  other  things  besides  the  particular 


recipient  or  reflective  human  mind. 


For  illustration  let  us  take  Socrates  on  the  one  hand,  Socrates 

ami  bargon. 

as  described  by  Xenophon,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  an 
Assyrian  king,  probably  Sargon  II.,  as  sketched  by  Isaiah. 
And  of  course,  the  correctness  or  otherwise  of  the  portrait 
drawn  makes  no  difference  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  is 
here  used.  Now  Socrates  as  citizen,  moralist,  and  teacher, 
thought  of  himself  as  a  responsible  member  of  au  ordered 
society,  stationed  where  he  was  by  divine  power  and 
burdened  with  a  duty  to  transmit  to  others  such  con- 
victions of  the  relations  between  true  knowledge  and  the 


94 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Part  ii.  , 
Prop,  xi., 
Coroll. 


Assur  or 
Sargon  n. 


higher  life  as  involved  the  salvation  both  of  individuals 

and  the  State.     This  idea  of  Socrates,  concerning  himself, 

seems  to  correspond  very  fairly  with  Spinoza's  notion  of 

an  'adequate  idea.'     That  is,  it  may  with  reverence  be 

regarded  as  the  thought  of  God,  'not  so  far  as  He  is 

infinite,  but  so  far  as  He  constitutes  the  essence  of  the 

mind '  of  Socrates.     Not  that  the  infallibility  of  Socrates 

as   a   philosopher,  moralist,  or   teacher,  follows   in  the 

least  from  this.     Indeed  it  will  be  found  that  he  had 

many  inadequate  ideas  according   to   the   definition   of 

Spinoza.     But  all  the  same,  his  idea  of  himself  and  his 

mission  is,  I  think,  a  very  fair  illustration  of  what  the 

Master  meant  by  an  adequate  idea. 

Now  turn  to  a  very  different  character  suggested  by  a 

passage  in  Isaiah  : — 

1  Woe  !  Assur,  the  rod  of  mine  anger, 
And  the  staff  of  my  indignation ! 
Against  an  impious  nation  am  I  wont  to  send  him, 
And  against  the  people  of  my  wrath  to  give  him  a  charge. 

But  he — not  go  does  he  plan, 
And  his  mind,  not  so  does  it  reckon  ; 
For  extirpation  is  in  his  mind, 
And  to  cut  off  nations  not  a  few. 

For  he  has  said  : 

"  By  the  strength  of  my  hand  have  I  done  it, 
And  by  my  wisdom,  for  I  have  discernment ; 
And  I  removed  the  bounds  of  the  peoples, 
And  their  treasures  plundered." 

Is  the  axe  to  vaunt  itself  over  him  who  hews  therewith  ? 
Or  is  the  saw  to  brag  over  him  who  saws  therewith  ? 

Sworn  has  Jahweh  Sabaoth  : 

"Surely  as  I  have  planned  so  shall  it  be, 

And  as  I  have  purposed,  it  shall  stand.'"1 


Extracts  from  translation  by  Canon  Cheyne  in  the  Potychrome  Bible. 


THE  NATUKE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    95 

Now   here   Sargon   n. — if    the    identification    be   right,  Applica- 
tion. 
though   the   name   matters   not — is   so  presented   by  a 

prophet  making  no  pretence  to  philosophy,  as  to  afford  a 

very  apt  illustration  of  what  the  great  Jew  of  more  than 

two  millenniums  later  meant  by  the  domination  of  an 

inadequate  idea.     For  the  Assyrian  king  is  described  as 

carrying  out  a  purpose  of  God   indeed,  but   a   purpose 

extending  far  beyond  the  thought  in  the  mortal  mind. 

To  put  it  in  Spinoza's  words,  the  Eternal  has  a  '  certain 

idea  not  merely  so  far  as  He  constitutes  the  nature  of 

the  human  mind '  of  Sargon,  'but  so  that  together  with 

the  human  mind  He  has  the  idea  of  another  thing,  and 

therefore  we  say  that  the  human  mind   perceives  the 

matter  in  part  or  inadequately.' 

And  if  it  be  said,  as  truly  it  must  be  said,  that  no 
finite  mode  of  infinite  thought  is  isolated,  and  that  God 
as  constituting  the  essence  of  each  human  mind  involves 
at  the  same  time  all  other  minds  and  everything  that  is, 
this  is  no  objection  to  the  Master's  distinction.  For 
though  the  mind  of  Socrates  be  only  a  point  in  the 
Infinite,  the  idea  of  Socrates  concerning  himself  coincides 
with  that  point,  and  does  not  go  beyond  it.  He  fits  into 
and  is  content  with  the  infinitesimal  place  appointed 
him  in  the  Infinite  Whole.  But  not  so  Sargon ;  for  in 
his  lust  of  conquest  he  strains  beyond  his  due  place,  and 
though  he  fulfils  a  divine  purpose,  he  has  no  adequate 
idea  of  it.  He  is  thinking  of  himself  while  God  is 
thinking  of  infinite  things. 

Socrates  then,  according  to  Spinoza,  has  a  mind  which  Socrates 
acts,  or  is  in  the  sense  of  past  times  an  adequate  cause.  Sargon 
Sargon,  on  the  other  hand,  has  a  mind  which  is  passive, 


96 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Because  the 
one  has  an 
adequate 
idea  of 
his  place, 
and  is  an 
adequate 
cause  of 
his  work ; 

while  the 
reverse  is 
the  case 
with 
Sargon. 


Abbrevia- 
tion. 


or  driven  by  passion,  and  is  an  inadequate  cause.  The 
common-sense  of  this  is  that  Socrates,  having  an  adequate 
idea,  that  is,  God's  idea,  concerning  himself  and  his 
mission,  acts  purely  from  an  inward  impulse  that  is 
doubtless  the  resultant  of  an  infinity  and  eternity  of 
forces,  but  which  is  free  from  any  compulsion  outside 
the  conscious  Socrates ;  while  Sargon  suffers  the  passions 
of  ambition  and  greed,  and  is  driven  into  deeds  of 
violence  and  blood  by  motives  from  without.  Thus  also, 
Socrates  is  in  the  old-fashioned  sense  an  '  adequate 
cause'  because  his  work  can  be  clearly  and  distinctly 
understood  from  his  own  nature  alone — that  is,  of 
course,  his  own  nature  as  a  limited  mode  of  infinite 
Thought.  But  Sargon  is  an  inadequate  cause,  because 
his  work  can  be  understood  only  through  the  interaction 
between  his  own  passions  and  a  complex  of  brute  force 
and  political  cunning.  Thus  neither  the  idea  nor  the  life 
of  Sargon  has  any  obvious  symmetry  as  a  proportional 
part  of  the  Infinite,  but  is  merely  a  ragged  fragment, 
only  to  be  harmonised  with  the  Whole  by  a  far-reaching 
conception  of  the  relation  of  all  parts  thereto. 

We  may  now  hasten  over  a  number  of  steps  in 
Spinoza's  advance  toward  his  final  aim,  the  true  freedom 
of  man.  Because,  though  to  the  mind  of  the  Master 
each  proposition  and  proof  was  essential,  they  need  not 
be  in  evidence  for  our  special  purpose.  Thus  Nature  in 
maturing  the  embryo  of  a  particular  organism,  does  in- 
deed recapitulate  all  the  steps  taken  by  Natura  Naturans 
in  the  evolution  of  the  organic  world  up  to  the  grade 
assigned  to  the  new  individual  life.  But  the  process  is 
abbreviated,  so  that  many  of  the  steps  are  barely  indi- 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    97 

cated,  or  even  only  implied.  Yet  the  general  trend  is 
visible  enough  for  ordinary  physiological  students.  If  I 
venture  to  treat  somewhat  similarly  the  elaborate  argu- 
ment of  this  Part  iil,  it  is  because  my  aim  is  the  practical 
realisation  of  individual  religion  on  Spinoza's  lines  of 
thought. 

Everything   that   exists   endeavours    to    continue   its  Seif-pre- 
existence.     With  reference  to  the  mind  this  endeavour  is 
called  '  Will '  (voluntas)  and  with  reference  to  the  body, 
1  appetite ' ; 1  but  in  either  case  '  it  is  nothing  other  than 
the  essence  itself  of  the  man,  from  the  nature  of  which 
essence  those  things  that  favour  its  preservation  neces- 
sarily follow,  and  thus  the  man  is  impelled  to  do  those 
things.'     Desire,  or  greed,  is  appetite  come  to  full  con- 
sciousness.    From   this   instinct  of   self-preservation  it  and  results 
results  that  the  notion  of  annihilation  either  of  body  or  instinct. 
mind   is   unnatural;   and   that   whatever   increases   the 
active — as  distinguished  from  the  passive — capacities  of 
the  body,  increases  or  diminishes  also  the  mind's  capacity 
for  thought. 

Here  comes  in  the  idea  of  Joy,  which  is  a  transition  Joy, Sorrow 
of  the  mind  from  a  less  to  a  greater  perfection,  whereas 
Grief  is  the  transition  of  the  mind  to  a  lesser  perfection. 
Joy,  when  it  affects  both  mind  and  body,  may  be  called 
pleasurable  excitement  or  merriment  (titillatio  vel 
hilaritas).  But  when  Grief  (or  misery)  affects  mind  and 
body  it  is  called  melancholy  (depression)  or  pain.  More 
particularly  pleasure  or  pain  is  predicated  when  one  part 
of  the  man  is  affected  more  than  the  rest  of  him.  We 
might  instance  the  '  pleasures  of  the  table '  on  the  one 

1  Not  to  be  limited  to  the  desire  for  food,  etc. 


98  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

hand,  or  toothache  on  the  other.  What  desire  is  has 
already  been  indicated.  And  from  these  three,  Joy, 
Grief,  and  Desire,  arise  or  are  compounded  all  affections 
of  the  mind. 
Prop.  xii.  <  So  far  as  it  can,  the  mind  inclines  to  think  of  these 
General      things   which   increase   and   help   the   body's   power  of 

issues  from 

the  above  action.' *  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  mind  is  haunted 
by  the  idea  of  those  things  which  diminish  or  repress  the 

Prop.  xiii.  body's  power  of  action,  it  endeavours  to  bethink  itself  of 
something  else  adapted  to  shut  out  of  view  the  existence 
of  those  unpleasant  ideas.     And  here,  according  to  the 

Nature  of    Master,  we  reach  the  significance  of  love  and  hatred.    For 

love  and  .  .  .  . 

hate.  love  is  nothing  else  than  joy  coincident  with  the  idea  of 

an  external  cause.    And  hatred  is  nothing  other  than 

grief — or,   say,   uneasiness   and   discomfort2 — coincident 

with  the  idea  of  an  external  cause.     We  see,  then,  that 

he  who  loves  will  inevitably  desire  to  have  the  object  of 

his  love  present,  and  to  preserve  it ;  while,  on  the  other 

hand,  he  who  hates,  must  desire  to  remove  and  destroy 

the  object  of  his  hate. 

Caution  And  here  I  venture  to  interpose  a  caution  against  any 

premature   hasty  impulse  to  condemn  such  an  idea  of  love  and  hate  as 

cone  usions.  jtq aterialistic,  shallow,  or  mercenary.     For  we  are  dealing 

1  This  is  true  even  if  the  mind  is  altogether  wrong  in  its  selection, 
e.y.  in  dram-drinking.  The  body's  poAver  of  action  is  certainly  not 
helped  thereby.  But  the  first  elation  makes  the  drunkard  think  so. 
And  then  the  power  of  association,  as  mentioned  presently,  comes  in. 

2  Although  Spinoza  was  always  very  exact  in  his  use  of  language,  the 
exactness  sometimes  consisted  in  harmony  with  his  own  definitions. 
And  his  notion  of  'joy,  grief,  and  desire'  is  certainly  not  precisely 
equivalent  to  our  conversational  sense  of  these  words.  Hence  if  we 
are  to  express  his  meaning  it  is  necessary  at  times  to  supplement  those 
words  by  others. 


THE  NATUEE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    99 

with  thought  only.  Even  when  the  body  is  mentioned,  it 
is  the  body  as  an  idea,  and  not  as  a  molecular  organism. 
Thus  materialism  is  out  of  the  question.  And  if  we  are 
repelled  by  the  analysis  of  all  the  grandeur  of  human 
passion  into  its  ultimate  elements,  it  is  as  though  we 
should  be  shocked  by  the  fact  that  the  splendours  of  the 
autumn  woods  are  but  a  fantasia  on  three  primary  tints. 
Spinoza,  who  cheerfully  and  unostentatiously  sacrificed 
for  truth  and  right  all  that  materialists  and  mercenary 
men  hold  dear,  had  no  temptation  to  belittle  the  ideal 
aspects  of  human  passion.  But  he  knew  by  intuition 
that  all  his  sublimest  contemplations  were  as  consistent 
with  their  simplest  elements  as  the  divine  Whole  is  with 
its  humblest  parts. 

In  evolving  the  higher  and  more  complex  aspects  of  Association 
Joy,  Grief,  and  Desire,  association  of  ideas  plays  a  large 
part,  and  also  what  are  in  common  speech  called  J  acci- 
dental '  causes.     Thus,  if  the  body  has  once  realised  sen-  Prop.  adv. 
sations  from  two  objects,  and  if  the  mind  at  a  later  time 
thinks  of  one  of  those  objects,  it  will  immediately  re- 
member the  other.     It  follows  that  things  may  become 
by  mere  accident  the  causes  of  Joy,  Grief,  or  Desire.  Prop.  xv. 
That  is,  anything  in  itself  quite  neutral,  may  by  associa- 
tion in  impression  and  memory  with  an  effective  cause  of 
Joy  or  Grief  become  itself  a  cause  of  either,  because  the 
thought  of  it  calls  up  its  linked  idea.1 

1  The  curious  antipathy  of  the  late  George  Borrow  to  Dr.  Martineau 
affords  an  apt  if  somewhat  ludicrous  illustration.  For  it  is  said  to 
have  been  caused  entirely  by  the  accident  that  the  boy  Martineau, 
through  no  wish  of  his  own,  was  compelled  to  hoist  the  boy  Borrow  on 
his  shoulders  for  punishment  in  their  schooldays.  Martineau  was  an 
accidental  and  a  neutral  object  in  the  recollection.  But  the  association 
with  the  true  cause  of  woe  was  fatal. 


100  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Vacillation.  We  get  a  more  complicated  case  of  association,  when 
an  object  which  usually  affects  us  with  grief  or  annoy- 
ance is  felt  to  be  similar  to  another  which  usually 
Prop,  mi.,  affects  us  with  joy.  It  seems  inevitable  that  in  such  a 
case  the  object  will  be  regarded  both  with  dislike  and 
with  favour,  either  simultaneously  or  alternately.  Our 
generation  perhaps  might  find  an  illustration  of  this  in 
the  double  effect  produced  in  the  minds  of  the  first 
Catholic  observers  of  the  ritual  of  the  Buddhists.  For 
not  only  in  the  monastic  institutions  of  that  religion,  but 
in  many  of  its  ceremonies  there  was  much  that  reminded 
them  of  their  home  religion.  While  therefore  they  were 
accustomed  to  regard  all  idolatries  with  grief,  they  could 
not  deny  the  similarity  to  what  had  from  their  childhood 
affected  them  with  joy.  There  resulted  a  confusion  of 
feeling  according  as  they  were  inclined  to  consider  Bud- 
dhistic institutions  a  degraded  inheritance  from  early 
missions,  or  as  a  blasphemous  parody  produced  by  the 
powers  of  darkness. 
Hope,  fear,  The  action  of  the  simple  elements — Joy,  Grief,  and 
aLTex? '  Desire — is  farther  complicated  by  man's  relations  to  the 
penence.  ^^  an(^  future.  For  we  are  so  constituted  that  we  can 
recall  the  past  and  anticipate  the  future  so  as  to  give 
either  of  them  the  influence  of  a  present  object.  But 
Prop,  xviii.  such  memory  and  anticipation  are  peculiarly  liable  to  the 
uncertainty,  alternation,  or  vacillation  of  effect  shown 
above  to  belong  to  some  actually  present  objects.  Thus 
hope  is  defined  as  an  unsteady  joy  arising  from  the 
thought  of  something  past  or  future,  while  we  are  still 
in  doubt  as  to  the  issue.  Fear,  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
unsteady  grief,  also  arising  from  the  thought  of  some 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    101 

uncertain  event.  Farther,  by  the  removal  of  uncertainty, 
hope  becomes  confidence,  or  fear  may  become  despair. 
The  Master  then  proceeds  to  work  out  in  detail  the  power 
of  sympathy,  the  effect  of  which  is  inverse  in  cases  of 
love  and  hate,  the  realisation  of  the  pleasure  of  the  loved 
object  giving  pleasure  to  the  lover,  while  realisation  of 
the  grief  or  pain  of  the  hated  object  pleases  the  hater. 
In  passing  I  may  remark  that  such  statements  are  to  be 
accepted  like  abstract  propositions  in  Political  Economy, 
as  true  in  the  absence  of  modifying  influences,  which, 
however,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  are  always  present.  Most 
significant  on  this  point  is  the  theorem  (xxvii.)  which 
declares  that  if  we  see  any  creature  similar  to  ourselves,  Power  of 
but  otherwise  indifferent  to  us,  to  be  affected  in  any  way,  awakened 
we  imagine  ourselves  to  be  similarly  affected.  The  to  our. 
doctrine  of  the  '  enthusiasm  of  humanity '  and  organisa- se 
tion  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals  afford 
sufficient  illustration.  For  even  in  the  case  of  animals, 
it  is  just  in  proportion  as  we  conceive  their  consciousness 
to  be  like  our  own  that  we  are  affected  by  their  sufferings. 
I  suppose  no  lover  of  '  sport '  would  impale  a  live  mouse 
on  a  hook,  as  he  impales  a  worm. 

From  this  follow  a  number  of  conclusions  so  obvious  Complica- 
tions of 
that   the  Master  would   scarcely   have   stated   them   in  social  feel- 
ing, 
detail,  had  he  not  set  his  mind  upon  carrying  out  con- 
sistently the  forms  of  mathematical  demonstration.     It  is 
sufficient  here  to  note  that  every  step  in  the  exposition  Props,  six. 
goes  to  show  how  very  complicated  an  interplay  of  feel- 
ing, both  self-regarding  and  altruistic,  must  arise  among 
social  beings  out  of  those  simple  elements,  Joy,  Grief,  and 
Desire.      Thus   if   any  one   to   whom  we  are  otherwise 


102 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Envy  and 
Jealousy. 


Props, 
xxxii.  to 
xxxv. 


Hate  re- 
strained by 
self -regard, 


Props, 
xliii.,  xliv. 


Love  ex- 
tended by 
association 
of  ideas. 


indifferent  docs  good  to  another  being  like  ourselves,  we 
shall  begin  to  favour  the  benefactor.  But  if  any  one 
harms  another  like  ourselves,  we  shall  hate  the  wrongdoer. 
If  we  pity  anything,  the  fact  that  its  misery  causes  us 
pain  will  not  alienate  us.  It  is  clear  that  we  naturally 
desire  to  promote  everything  that  causes  joy,  and  to 
remove  or  destroy  anything  that  lessens  joy.  This,  of 
course,  involves  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity,  and  the  joy 
we  cause  is  reflected  upon  ourselves.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  evil  that  we  do  to  others  is  necessarily  also  returned 
on  our  own  heads. 

At  the  same  time,  we  are  taught  that  love  in  some  of 
its  forms  is  anything  but  altruistic.  For  if  we  love  any 
being  like  ourselves,  we  want  love  in  return,  and  the 
more  we  get  of  that  love  the  prouder  we  shall  be.  But  if 
we  suspect  that  a  third  person  is  interfering  with  our 
monopoly,  we  shall  hate  the  intruder.  Our  feeling  may 
be  that  of  Envy  or  Jealousy  according  to  circumstances. 

But  if  love  is  often  mingled  with  self-regard,  hatred  also 
is  restrained  thereby.  For  '  if  one  hates  another  he  will 
try  to  do  that  other  a  mischief,  unless  he  fears  that 
thereby  he  will  incur  a  greater  mischief  to  himself.' 
Hatred,  while  redoubled  by  hate,  may  be  destroyed  by 
love,  and  so  may  be  transformed  into  love ;  a  love  all  the 
more  fervid  because  of  the  transformation.  The  reflex 
influence  of  lovable  or  hateful  actions  may  extend  to 
whole  classes  or  races  of  men.  For,  l  if  we  have  been 
affected  with  joy  or  grief  by  any  one  who  belongs  to  a 
class  or  nation  different  from  our  own,  and  if  our  joy  or 
grief  is  accompanied  with  the  idea  of  this  person  as  its 
cause,  under  the  common  name  of  his  class  or  nation, 
wc  shall  not   love  or  hate    merely  him,  but   the  whole 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    103 

of  the  class  or  nation  to  which  he  belongs.' l  In  Prop.  xivi. 
illustration  of  this  we  may  note  how  much  the  affec-  Modem 
tions  of  natural  kinship  between  ourselves  and  the 
United  States  have  been  quickened  by  the  beneficence 
of  the  late  Mr.  Peabody  and  the  living  Mr.  Carnegie. 
And  though  less  generally  known,  the  work  of  the 
late  Rev.  Robert  M'Call  among  the  poor  in  Paris,  a  work 
so  remarkable  that  on  his  decease  he  was  honoured  with 
what  was  practically  a  public  funeral,  while  men  in 
high  office  tendered  their  respectful  regrets,  was  not  with- 
out its  influence  in  promoting  the  good  feeling  of  the 
French  people  towards  us. 

On  the  other  hand,  even  hatred  may  be  half-neutral-  Hate  as- 
suaged by 
ised  by  sympathy.     For  '  the  joy  caused  to  us  by  the  sympathy. 

thought  that  an  object  of  our  hate  has  been  destroyed  or 

afflicted  with  any  evil,  is  not  unaffected  by  mental  grief.' 

Here  again  a  notable  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  Prop,  xlvii. 

mourning  of  the  Japanese  victors  when  a  Russian  admiral 

was  drowned  by  the  sinking  of  his  battleship  during  the 

siege  of  Port  Arthur.     The  order  of  abstinence  from  all 

luxuries  for  a  day  was  no  mere  affectation,  but  evidence 

of  a  sorrow  really  felt. 

1  Love  and   Hatred  toward  any  object,  for  example,  The  simple 

toward  Peter,  are  destroyed  if  the  Joy  and  Grief  which  affections 

they  respectively  involve   be   associated  with   the   idea  compli- 

of  another  cause ;  and  they  are  respectively  diminished  terference1 

in  proportion  as  we  imagine  that  Peter  has  not  been  ^^thau 

their  sole  cause.' *     Of  this  an  example  may  be  found  in  jjjS^ 

the  revulsion  of  popular  feeling  toward  the  memory  of  Prop.xivm. 

Charles  I.  when  the  continuance  of  the  Commonwealth 

under  Richard  Cromwell  was  found  to  be  impracticable. 

1  Xiauslation  of  Hale  White  ami  Amelia  Stirling. 


104 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Interfer- 
ence of 
freedom 
and  neces 
sity. 


For  succeeding  constitutional  history  showed  that  in 
their  new  mood  the  English  people  by  no  means  con- 
doned the  illegal  acts  of  the  dead  king.  But  they  began 
to  associate  other  causes  with  their  memory  of  the 
suffering  caused  by  attempted  tyranny.  They  thought 
of  evil  advisers,  or  exceptional  necessity,  and  just  in 
proportion  as  they  associated  the  former  miseries  of  the 
country  with  such  causes  instead  of  Charles,  their  in- 
dignation changed  to  pity ;  though  they  were  far  other 
causes  which  changed  that  pity  into  worship. 

It  seems  at  first  sight  strange  to  find  Spinoza  teaching 
us,  as  a  result  of  the  above,  that  toward  an  object  con- 
ceived as  free,  our  feelings  of  Love  and  Hatred  are, 
under  an  equal  incitement,  greater  than  toward  a  creature 
Prop.  xlix.  0f  necessity.  But  his  proof  dissipates  any  possibility  of 
mistake.  For  he  shows,  in  consistency  with  his  defini- 
tions, that  a  thing  conceived  by  us  as  free  is  regarded 
by  itself  apart  from  others.  Therefore,  if  it  be  a  cause 
of  joy  to  us,  we  trace  our  indebtedness  no  farther,  and 
concentrate  all  our  love  on  the  isolated  object.  But  if 
we  think  the  object  to  be  under  necessity  we  know  that 
it  cannot  be  alone  as  the  cause  of  our  joy,  since  it  is 
acting  together  with  other  compelling  causes.1    We  do  not 

1  This  point  in  Spinoza's  doctrine  need  not  occasion  great  difficulty 
to  the  religious  mind.  For  according  to  Christianity  there  is  no 
fundamental  contradiction,  at  least  to  a  religious  mind,  between  a 
free  and  an  unfree  finite  cause.  An  evangelist  is  a  free  cause,  but 
at  the  same  time  wholly  dependent  on  inspiration  or  grace.  And 
those  who  are  converted  or  '  saved'  by  his  preaching  thank  certainly 
not  him  alone  but  God  through  him,  This  looks  like  a  confusion 
of  thought,  though  it  is  less  so  than  it  seems.  But  it  is  really 
consistent  with  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  freedom,  as  I  hope  will  be 
seen  if  wc  persevere  as  far  as  Part  v.  If  wc  master  that  doctrine 
we  shall  be  able  to  sympathise  with  all  religions  that  tend  upwards. 


THE  NATUEE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    105 

therefore  concentrate  our  whole  love  upon  it.  '  Hence  it 
follows  that  because  men  think  themselves  free  they  are 
affected  with  greater  love  or  hatred  toward  each  other 
than  toward  other  things.' 

Anything  may  be  accidentally,  that  is,  by  association,  Origin  of 
the  cause  either  of  Hope  or  Fear.     Thus,  if  in  bygone  tions. 
times  a  number  of  men,  at  however  longj  intervals,  had  Props,  l. 

7  .         tolii. 

ill-luck  after  seeing  a  magpie  in  a  particular  direction, 
the  intercommunication  of  their  experience  would  be 
enough  to  establish  an  association,  and  the  magpie  would 
become  thereby  a  cause  of  fear.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
on  various  occasions  the  appearance  of  a  soaring  eagle 
on  the  right  of  the  chieftain  was  followed  by  victory,  the 
perhaps  equally  numerous  cases  of  an  opposite  event 
would  not  be  counted,  and  a  favourable  association  was 
established.  Thus  omens  came  to  be  a  cause  of  hope 
and  fear.  Optimism  is  shown  by  the  Master's  un- 
qualified assertion  that  by  our  natural  constitution  we 
easily  believe  the  things  we  hope  for,  and  believe  with 
difficulty  what  we  fear.  That  is  surely  not  a  universal 
experience.  Nor  is  it  perhaps  quite  consistent  with 
the  tracing  of  '  superstitions '  to  such  a  cause.  For 
most  superstitions  are  dark  and  bear  the  taint  of 
fear. 

After  showing  that  there  is  not  necessarily  any  uni-  Exceptional 
formity  in  the  effect  produced  on  divers  men  by  the  make  the 
same  object,  and   that  even  the  same  person  may  be  Impassion, 
variously  affected  by  the  same  object  at  different  times, 
the    Master    lays    down    a    proposition    which    has    an 
obvious    bearing   on   the    evolution   of    religious    cults. 
'An   object  which    we    have    previously   seen   together 


106  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

with  others,  or  which  we  think  to  possess  no  charac- 
teristic beyond  what  is  common  to  many,  will  not  arrest 
our  attention  so  long  as  an  object  which  we  think  to 

Fetishism,  be  exceptional.'  In  a  Scholium  Spinoza  shows  in  a  few 
words  how,  from  such  an  experience,  astonishment  or 
consternation  may  arise,  according  as  the  exceptional 
object  excites  wonder  or  fear.  This  we  may  illustrate 
by  the  awe  felt  by  Arabs  for  the  Kaaba,  or  black  stone 
at  Mecca.  Again,  if  the  exceptional  object  be  a  human 
character,  action,  or  passion,  the  alternative  mental 
affections  are  veneration  and  devotion  in  the  case  of 
good,  and  horror  in  the  case  of  evil.  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi  or  Richard  in.  naturally  occur  as  opposite  illus- 
trations. It  is  obvious  that  various  forms  of  religion, 
such  as  Fetishism  at  one  extreme,  and  Babism  at  an- 
other, are  quite  conceivably  traceable  to  the  mental 
affections  caused  by  strikingly  exceptional  objects  or 
persons. 

Joy  of  the        Amidst  the   bewildering   interplay  of  variously   dis- 

mindinits         .  &  r     J  J 

activities,  guised  Joy,  Grief,  and  Desire  stimulated  by  idea, 
passion,  and  imagination,  one  strong  impulse  is  always 

Prop.  mi.  clear ;  and  that  is  the  joy  of  the  mind  in  consciousness 
of  its  power  of  action,  a  joy  all  the  greater  in  proportion 
/as  that  power  is  more  clearly  realised.  For  illustration 
we  have  only  to  think  of  the  exultation  chanted  by 
Lucretius  over  his  labour,  or  the  triumph  in  the  posses- 
sion of  his  supreme  gift  which  throbs  through  every  line 
of  Milton's  epic.  These  are  extreme  cases,  it  is  true. 
But  they  show  on  a  great  scale  what  is  felt  in  various 
diminishing  degrees  by  every  mind  that  acts  out  its 
powers.      Here  sympathy  comes  in  and  enables  praise 


THE  NATURE  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    107 

to  double  the  mind's  Joy  in  its  own  activities  by  the 
sense  of  pleasure  given  to  others. 

This  being  so,  the  mind  naturally  tends  to  think  of  A  proper 

°  J  #     self-con- 

those  things  which  involve  its  power  of  action.  This  is  sciousneas. 
illustrated  in  myriads  of  street  conversations,  where  each  Prop-  liv. 
interlocutor,  whether  cabman,  commercial  traveller,  jour- 
nalist, or  lawyer,  always  seeks  occasion  to  celebrate  his 
own  shrewdness,  spirit,  pluck,  or  sharpness.  For  this  is 
not  necessarily  mere  conceit  of  self.  It  is  prompted  by 
the  mind's  pleasure  in  its  own  activities.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  mind  is  forced  to  realise  its  lack  of  power, 
it  is  grieved,  as,  for  instance,  when  a  student  sets  out  on 
a  career  for  which  he  is  unfitted  by  nature,  and  finds  by 
failure  the  bitterness  of  impotence.  And  as  the  joy  of 
power  is  doubled  by  the  pleasure  given  to  others,  so  the 
grief  of  impotence  is  increased  by  blame  which  implies 
the  pain  of  others. 

The   concluding    four    propositions   of   this    Part   ill.  infinite 
finally  establish  the  immense  complexity  of  the  mental  of  the 
affections  compounded  out  of  simple  elements  with  the  affections. 
aid  of  sympathy  and  association.      '  Of  Joy,  Grief,  and  Props,  lvi. 

lix. 

Desire,  and  consequently  of  every  affection  which  either, 
like  vacillation  of  mind,  is  compounded  of  these,  or  like 
Love,  Hatred,  Hope,  and  Fear,  is  derived  from  them, 
there  are  just  as  many  kinds  as  there  are  kinds  of 
objects  by  which  we  are  affected.'  Amongst  these 
mental  affections  some  of  the  most  obtrusive,  such  as 
1  voluptuousness,  drunkenness,  lust,  avarice,  and  (selfish) 
ambition,'  cause  us  all  the  perplexities  associated  with 
inadequate  ideas. 

But  besides  the  joys  and  griefs  that  are  passions — 


108  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

The  noblest  i.e.  the  pleasant  or  painful  experience  of  the  mind  driven 

are  those  of 

action.  by  forces  outside  itself — there  are  also  mental  affections 
belonging  to  action  rather  than  passion.  And  these, 
whether  bright  or  sombre,  are  of  a  higher  rank  than 
passion.  We  may  illustrate  this  doctrine  by  reference 
to  the  serenity  of  Socrates  when  he  drank  the  hemlock, 
a  serenity  in  which,  however,  grief  for  his  bereaved 
disciples,  and  also  for  a  misguided  State,  mingled  in 
the  perfect  peace  with  which  he  followed  the  right. 
This  was  not  an  attitude  of  passion,  but  of  action,  be- 
cause it  had  the  spontaneity  of  freedom.  Yet  it  was 
attended  by  joy  and  grief.  And  thus  the  mind,  even  in 
the  exercise  of  the  freeman's  highest  prerogatives  of 
action,  never  escapes  Joy,  Grief,  and  Desire. 

Conclusion  In  fact  we  see  already,  and  I  hope  we  shall  see  more 
clearly  hereafter,  that  Spinoza's  spiritual  ideal  was 
neither  that  of  the  Stoic,  nor  of  the  Mystic,  nor  of 
'  Nirvana.'  Never  did  he  countenance  the  unnatural 
and  impossible  attempt  to  extirpate  appetites  which  are 
of  the  essence  of  man.  But,  as  the  solar  system  keeps 
its  place,  subordinating  all  its  attractions  and  repulsions, 
its  electric  currents,  its  fierce  heats,  and  its  congealing 
cold,  to  its  function  as  part  of  an  infinite  Whole,  so  the 
microcosm  man,  always  palpitating  with  desire,  is  to 
keep  such  an  inward  harmony  that  while  sure  that  he 
is,  so  to  speak,  only  an  atom  of  God,  he  is  conscious  only 
of  the  spontaneity  of  the  free. 


APPENDIX  TO  PAKT  III 

definitions  of  the  mental  affections  1 
Introductory  Eemarks 

It  is  doubtful  whether  these  Definitions  should  be  in-  Difficulties 
eluded  in  any  mere  '  Handbook '  to  the  Ethics.  For  they  Definitions. 
form  in  some  respects  the  most  difficult  section  of  the 
whole,  and  can  scarcely  be  appreciated  until  the  doctrine 
of  Freedom  in  Part  v.  has  been  mastered.  One  reason 
for  the  difficulty  is  given  us  by  Spinoza  himself  in  one  of 
his  '  Explanations,'  Def.  xx. 

'I  am  aware/  he  says,  'that  these  words  in  common  use 
have  another  signification.  But  my  purpose  is  to  explain 
the  nature  of  things  rather  than  of  words,  and  to  indicate  it 
by  words  of  which  the  customary  meaning  is  not  altogether 
foreign  to  the  sense  in  which  I  desire  to  use  them.  It  is 
enough  to  give  notice  of  this  once  for  all.' 

But  the  notice,  though  it  may  set  us  on  our  guard,  by 
no  means  removes  the  difficulty.  When,  for  instance, 
we  find  Love  (Def.  vi.)  defined  as  '  Joy  with  the  con- 
comitant idea  of  an  external  cause '  where  the  external 
cause  may  be  anything  from  a  plum-pudding  up  to  an 
artistic  or  even  religious  ideal,  we  feel  as  if  we  had  lost 

1  For  reasons  given  in  the  Introductory  Remarks  I  would  advise 
most  readers  to  pass  over  these  definitions  until  they  have  read  the 
exposition  of  Part  v. 

109 


110  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

our  bearings  and  were  altogether  out  of  touch  with  the 
Author.  For  though  the  word  Love  is  of  course  often 
used  in  lower  senses,  as  wThen  a  man  talks  of  his  love  for 
apples  or  for  bitter  beer,  yet  in  a  work  on  philosophy  we 
expect  to  find  it  associated  with  the  highest  and  purest 
emotion  of  self-absorption  in  something  greater  or  better 
than  self.  But  it  is  obvious  that  Spinoza  wished  to 
include  in  his  definition  all  possible,  or  at  least  all  actual 
forms  of  the  passion.  That  he  does  not  endorse  thereby 
any  low  or  carnal  idea  of  Love  is  sufficiently  proved  by 
his  inspiring  utterances  on  '  the  intellectual  Love  of  God.' 
And  if  it  be  asked  how  he  can  transfigure  into  such 
glory,  mere  'joy  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  an  external 
cause,'  I  can  only  hope  that  an  answer  may  be  found  in 
the  exposition  of  Part  v.  Here  it  is  only  needful  further 
to  observe  that  Spinoza  traces  all  the  bewildering 
varieties  of  human  feeling  to  three  fundamental  elements 
— Desire,  Joy,  and  Grief.  It  will  be  found  that  this  ulti- 
mate analysis  is  no  more  inconsistent  with  the  complex 
refinements  of  moral  evolution  than  is  the  analysis  of 
light  into  three  primary  colours  with  the  glories  of  the 
painter's  art. 


Definitions 

1 Desire  is  the  very  essence  of  man  in  so  far  as  that  essence 
is  conceived  as  determined  toward  any  action  by  any  one  of 
his  affections.  ^C 

'Explanation. — We  have  said  above  (Pt.  in.,  Prop,  xi., 
Schol.)  that  Desire  is  appetite  with  the  addition  of  self- 
consciousness,  while  appetite  is  the  very  essence  of  man  in  so 
far  as  the  latter  is  determined  to  such  acts  as  make  for  the 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    111 

man's  preservation.     But  at  the  same  time  I  have  noted  in 
that  Scholium  that  I  really  do  not  recognise  any  difference 
between  human  appetite  and  Desire.     For  whether  a  man  be 
conscious  of  his  appetite  or  not,  still  appetite  remains  one 
and  the  same  thing.     And  so  lest  I  should  appear  guilty  of 
tautology  I  have  refrained  from  explaining  Desire  by  appe- 
tite ;  but  I  have  sought  so  to  define  the  former  that  all  efforts 
of  human  nature  to  which  we  give  the  names   of  appetite, 
will,  desire,  or  impulse  might  be  included.      For  I  might 
have  said  that  desire  is  the  essence  itself  of  the  Man  so  far  as 
the  former  is  determined  toward  any  action ;  but  from  this 
definition  it  would  not  follow  x  that  the  mind  may  be  con- 
scious of  its  Desire  or  appetite ;  therefore  in  order  that  I 
might  include  the  cause  of  this  consciousness  it  was  necessary 
to  add  the  words  "in  so  far  as  that  essence  is  conceived  as 
determined  toward  any  action  by  any  one  of  (the  man's) 
affections."    For  by  an  affection  of  the  human  essence  we 
understand  any  disposition  of  that  essence,  whether  it  be 
innate,  whether  it  be  conceived  through  the  attribute  of 
Thought  alone  or  of  Extension  alone,  or  whether  it  be  related 
to  both.     Here,  then,  under  the  name  of  Desire,  I  understand 
every  one  of  those  emotions,  impulses,  appetites,  and  voli- 
tions which  vary  according  to  a  man's  changing  mood,  and 
not  rarely  are  so  mutually  opposed  that  he  is  drawn  hither 
and  thither  and  knows  not  what  he  would  be  at. 

'  II.  Joy  is   man's   passage   from  a   lesser  to    a    greater  Joy. 
perfection. 

'  III.  Grief  is  man's  passage  from  a  greater  to   a   lesser  Grief, 
perfection. 

'Explanation. — "Passage"  I  say.  For  Joy  is  not  the 
•  perfection  itself.  If,  for  instance,  a  man  were  born  having 
that  degree  of  perfection  to  which  (in  the  definition)  he 
passes,  he  would  possess  it  without  any  affection  of  joy ;  as 
will  appear  more  plainly  from  the  affection  of  Grief,  the 
opposite  to  the  former.      For,  that   Grief  consists  in    the 

1  '  The  Mind  does  not  know  itself  except  in  so  far  as  it  perceives 
ideas  of  bodily  affections.' — Pt.  II.,  Prop,  xxiii. 


merit. 


112  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

passage  to  lesser  perfection,  and  not  in  the  lesser  perfection 
itself,  no  one  can  deny,  since,  in  so  far  as  a  man  shares  any 
perfection,  he  cannot  be  sad.  Nor  can  we  say  that  Grief 
consists  in  being  without1  a  greater  perfection ;  for  "being 
without "  is  nothing.  But  the  affection  of  Grief  is  a  move- 
ment (actus),  and  can  therefore  be  nothing  other  than  the 
movement  of  passing  to  a  lesser  perfection,  that  is,  a  move- 
ment by  which  a  man's  power  of  action  is  diminished  or 
restrained  (Pt.  III.,  Prop,  xi.,  Schol.).  As  for  the  definitions 
of  merriment,  pleasurable  excitement,2  melancholy  and  pain, 
I  pass  them  by  because  they  are  related  rather  to  the  body 3 
than  to  the  mind,  and  are  only  different  varieties  of  Joy  and 
Grief. 
Astonish-  'IV.  Astonishment  is  the  realisation  (imagination,  Vorstel- 
lung)  of  an  object  on  which  the  Mind  remains  fixed  because 
this  particular  realisation  has  no  connection  with  others. 

'Explanation. — We  have  shown  (Pt.  II.,  Prop,  xviii., 
Schol.)  that  what  causes  the  Mind  to  pass  immediately  from 
the  contemplation  of  one  thing  to  the  thought  of  another  is 
that  the  images  of  these  things  are  linked  one  with  another 
and  are  so  arranged  that  one  succeeds  to  another.  Now  this 
is  inconceivable  when  the  image  of  the  thing  is  novel.  In 
such  a  case  the  Mind  will  be  fascinated  by  the  contemplation 
of  the  (new)  object  until  that  Mind  is  determined  by  other 
causes  to  think  of  other  things.  Considered  in  itself,  there- 
fore, the  realisation  of  a  novel  object  is  of  the  same  nature  as 
other  realisations.  And  on  this  account  I  do  not  reckon 
Astonishment  among  the  affections,  nor  do  I  see  any  reason 

1  '  Privation '  in  English  suggests  being  deprived  of,  and  is  there- 
fore not  so  purely  negative  since  it  implies  a  positive  change.  Spinoza's 
idea  may  be  illustrated  by  the  'blind'  fishes  of  certain  American 
caves.  Properly  speaking,  they  are  not  '  blind  '  at  all,  for  that  would 
imply  deprivation  of  sight,  and  therefore  passage  from  a  greater  to  a 
lesser  perfection.     They  are  simply  without  sight,  as  stones  are. 

2  E.g.  Tickling.     Melancholy  here  means  really  'dumps.' 

3  That  is,  their  immediate  occasion  is  more  obviously  corporeal. 
But  we  must  never  lose  sight  of  the  fundamental  unity  of  mind  and 
body. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    113 

why  I  should  do  so,  since  this  distraction  of  the  Mind  does 
not  arise  from  any  positive  cause  which  draws  the  Mind 
away  from  other  things,  but  simply  from  the  absence  of  any 
cause  leading  the  Mind  from  the  contemplation  of  one  object 
to  the  thought  of  other  things.  I  acknowledge  therefore 
(as  I  have  shown  in  Pt.  in.,  Prop,  xi.,  Schol.)  only  three  radical 
or  primary  affections,  viz.  Joy,  Grief,  and  Desire.  And  the 
only  reason  which  has  induced  me  to  make  any  comment  on 
Astonishment  is  that  it  has  been  customary  to  refer  by  other 
names  to  certain  affections  derived  from  the  three  radical 
ones,  wherever  those  (secondary)  affections  refer  to  things 
causing  astonishment.  The  same  reason  induces  me  to  add 
a  definition  of  Contempt. 

1 V.  Contempt  is  the  realisation  (imagination)  of  an  object  Contempt, 
which  touches  the  Mind  so  little  that  the  Mind   itself   is 
moved    by   the   presence   of    the   object   to   imagine   those 
qualities  which  are  not  in  it  rather  than  those  which  are  in 
it.1     See  Pt.  in.,  Prop,  lii.,  Schol. 

1  The  definitions  of  Veneration  and  Scorn  I  pass  over  here, 
because,  so  far  as  I  know,  none  of  the  affections  derive  a 
name  from  these.2 

1 VI.  Love  is  joy  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  an  external  Love, 
cause. 

'Explanation. — This  definition  explains  with  sufficient 
clearness  the  essence  of  Love ;  while  that  of  certain  authors 
who  define  Love  as  the  will  of  the  Lover  to  unite  himself  to 
the  loved  object  expresses  not  the  essence  of  Love  but  a 
property  of  it.  And  because  the  essence  of  Love  was  not 
sufficiently  discerned  by  such  authors,  neither   could  they 

1  We  must  be  careful  not  to  confuse  mere  contempt  with  the  in- 
dignation excited  by  the  forgeries  of  a  Pigott.  Contempt  touches 
only  at  a  tangent  and  glides  away.  E.g.  the  '  Baconian'  theory  of 
.Shakespeare's  works  glides  off,  leaving  only  the  thought  of  what  is  not 
in  it  and  is  inexplicable  by  it. 

2  Reference  to  Prop,  lii.,  Schol.,  in  Part  in. ,  shows  the  meaning  to 
be  that  Spinoza  regards  these  as,  so  to  speak,  affections  of  affections. 
Thus  :  •  Scorn  arises  from  contempt  of  folly,  as  veneration  arises  from 
astonishment  at  wisdom.' 

II 


114  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

have  any  distinct  perception  of  its  property,  and  hence  it 
has  come  to  pass  that  their  definition  has  been  generally 
considered  rather  obscure,  We  must  observe,  however,  that 
when  I  say  that  it  is  characteristic  of  a  lover  to  unite  himself 
in  will  (inclination)  to  the  thing  loved,  I  do  not  by  "  will " 
understand  a  consent  or  deliberate  resolve  or  a  free  deter- 
mination (for  this  we  have  shown  by  Prop,  xlviii.,  Pt.  II., 
to  be  fictitious) ;  nor  yet  a  desire  of  the  lover  to  reunite 
himself  with  the  thing  loved  when  it  is  absent,  nor  a  desire 
to  continue  in  its  presence  when  it  is  at  hand  ;  for  Love  can 
be  conceived  without  either  one  or  the  other  of  these  desires ; 
but  by  "will"  I  understand  the  satisfaction  (or  acquiescence) 
which  exists  in  the  lover  on  account  of  the  presence  of  the 
thing  loved,  by  which  presence  the  Joy  of  the  lover  is  rein- 
forced or  at  least  fostered. 
Hatred.  'VII.  Hatred  is  Grief  with  the   concomitant  idea  of  an 

external  cause. 

'Explanation. — What  should  be  noted  here  may  easily  be 

gathered  from  the  Explanation  of  the  preceding  Definition. 

See  also  Scholium  to  Prop.  xiii.  of  this  Part. 
Inclination.      '  VIII.  Inclination 1  is  Joy  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  some 

object  as  being  casually  the  cause  of  Joy.     On  this   see 

Scholium  to  Prop.  xv.  of  this  Part. 
Aversion.         'IX.  Aversion  is  Grief  with  the  accompanying  idea  of  some 

object  which  is  accidentally  the  cause  of  the  Grief. 
Devotion.         '  X.  Devotion  is   love  towards  an  object  at  which  we  are 

astonished  (or  which  overwhelms  us  with  wonder). 

'  Explanation. — We  have  shown  by  Prop.  Hi.  of  this  Part 

that  astonishment  is  excited  by  the  novelty  of  the  object. 

If  therefore  it  should  happen  that  we  often  call  up  the  image 

of  that  by  which  we  are  astonished,  our  astonishment  will 

cease,  and  thus  we  see  how  the  affection  of  Devotion  easily 

subsides  into  simple  Love. 

1  Or  the  sense  of  attraction  or  impulse  towards.  It  is  difficult  to 
give  in  one  English  word  Spinoza's  idea  of  propensio.  We  have 
adopted  '  propensity '  from  the  Latin.  But  its  connotations  are  hardly 
what  is  required  here. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS     115 

1  XL  Derision  (irrisio)  is  Joy  arising  from  our  recognition  Derision, 
that  something  we  despise  is  present  in  an  object  of  our  hatred. 

'Explanation. — In  as  far  as  we  despise  the  thing  we  hate, 
to  that  extent  we  deny  existence  to  it  (see  Schol.,  Prop,  lii., 
of  this  Part1),  and  so  far  we  rejoice.  But  since  it  is  implied 
that  a  man  holds  in  hatred  the  object  of  his  derision,  it 
follows  that  this  Joy  is  not  steadfast. 

1 XII.  Hope  is  uncertain  Joy  arising  from  something  future  Hope. 
or  past,  about  the  issue   of  which  we  are   to   any  extent 
doubtful. 

'  XIII.  Fear  is  uncertain  Grief  arising  from  the  idea  of  some-  Fear, 
thing  future  or  past  about  the  issue  of  which  we  are  to  any 
extent  doubtful. 

'Explanation. — From  these  Definitions  it  follows  that  there 
can  be  no  Hope  without  Fear,  nor  any  Fear  without  Hope. 
For  if  any  one  wavers  in  Hope  and  has  doubts  about  the 
issue  of  an  event,  this  implies  that  he  conceives  of  something 
excluding  the  realisation  of  his  future  object.  Thus  he  is 
grieved ;  and  consequently,  while  he  wavers  in  Hope,  he  fears 
that  things  will  turn  out  badly.  On  the  other  hand,  he  who 
is  in  Fear,  that  is,  who  doubts  whether  what  he  hates  will 
not  come  to  pass,  also  conceives  of  something  which  excludes 
the  existence  of  that  same  object  of  his  hate ;  and  thus  (by 
Prop.  xx.  of  this  Part)  he  rejoices,  and  has  hope  that  (his 
fear)  will  not  be  realised. 

'  XIV.  Confidence  is  Joy  arising  from  the  idea  of  a  past  or  Confidence, 
future  event,  concerning  which  all  cause  for  doubt  has  been 
removed. 

'  XV.  Despair  is  Grief  arising  from  the  idea  of  a  past  or  Despair, 
future  event  concerning  which  all  cause  for  doubt  has  been 
removed. 

1  Explanation. — Thus  Confidence  arises  out  of  Hope,  and 
Despair  out  of  Fear,  when  all  cause  for  doubt  of  an  event  is 

1  'The  mind  remains  determined  to  think  rather  of  those  things 
which  are  not  in  it ' — i.e.  the  object  of  contempt — '  than  of  those  which 
are  in  it,  although  from  the  presence  of  an  object  the  mind  is  accus- 
tomed to  think  chiefly  about  what  is  in  the  object/ 


116 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Gladness 


Bitterness. 


Commisera- 
tion. 


Favour. 

Indigna- 
tion. 


removed.  And  this  occurs  either  when  a  man  imagines  a 
thing  past  or  future  to  be  present  and  regards  it  as  present, 
or  because  he  conceives  of  other  things  which  exclude  the 
existence  of  those  circumstances  which  enabled  him  to  doubt. 
For  although  we  can  never  be  certain  about  the  outcome  of 
particular  circumstances  (by  Coroll.,  Prop,  xxxi.,  of  Pt.  II.),  it 
may  nevertheless  happen  that  we  have  no  doubt  about  it. 
For  we  have  shown  (Schol.  to  Prop,  xlix.,  Pt.  n.)  that  it  is  one 
thing  not  to  doubt  about  a  matter,  and  another  thing  to  have 
certainty  about  it.  And  so  it  may  happen  that  by  the  image 
of  a  thing  past  or  future  we  may  be  touched  with  the  same 
affection  of  Joy  or  Grief  as  by  the  image  of  the  thing  actually 
present.    (Prop,  xviii.  of  this  Part,  and  Schol.) 

1 XVI.  Gladness  is  Joy  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  some- 
thing in  the  past  that  has  turned  out  better  than  was  hoped. 

'XVII.  Bitterness  is  Grief  with  the  concomitant  idea  of 
something  in  the  past  that  has  turned  out  worse  than  was 
hoped. 

1  XVIII.  Commiseration  is  Grief  with  the  concomitant  idea 
of  an  evil  happening  to  another  whom  we  picture  as  resem- 
bling ourselves.  (Schol.  to  Prop,  xxii.,  and  Schol.,  Prop,  xxvii., 
of  this  Part.) 

*  Explanation. — Between  Commiseration  and  Pi  tifulness  there 
does  not  seem  to  be  any  difference  unless  perhaps  that  Com- 
miseration refers  rather  to  a  particular  affection  and  Pitiful- 
ness  to  a  habit. 

1 XIX.  Favour  is  Love  to  some  one  who  has  benefited  another. 

'XX.  Indignation  is  Hatred  toward  some  one  who  has 
injured  another. 

1  Explanation. — I  am  aware  that  these  words  in  common  use 
have  another  signification.  But  my  purpose  is  to  explain 
the  nature  of  things  rather  than  of  words,  and  to  indicate  it 
by  words  of  which  the  customary  meaning  is  not  altogether 
foreign  to  the  sense  in  which  I  desire  to  use  them.  It  is 
enough  to  give  notice  of  this  once  for  all.  But  see  the  cause 
of  these  affections  in  Coroll.  1,  Prop,  xxvii.,  and  Schol.  to 
Prop.  xxii.  of  this  Part. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS     117 

'  XXL  Over-estimation  consists  in  thinking  too  highly   of  Over- 
another  person  on  account  of  our  Love  for  him.     (The  C4erman  estimatlon 
Schicdrmerei  perhaps  expresses  Spinoza's  idea.) 

'  XXII.  Depreciation  consists  in  thinking  too  little  of  a  Depiecia- 
person  on  account  of  our  Hatred  for  him.  tl0D' 

1  Explanation. — Thus  over-estimation  (Schwarmerei)  is  an 
affection  or  property  of  Love,  and  Depreciation  is  an  affection 
or  property  of  Hatred;  and  therefore  Over-estimation  may 
be  also  defined  as  Love  in  so  far  as  it  causes  a  man  to  think 
too  highly  of  the  beloved  object;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
Depreciation  may  be  denned  as  Hatred  in  so  far  as  it  causes 
a  man  to  think  more  meanly  than  is  just  of  the  object  of  his 
Hate  (see  Schol.  to  Prop,  xxvii.  of  this  Part). 

'  XXIII.  Envy  is  Hatred  in  so  far  as  it  causes  a  man  to  be  Envy, 
grieved  by  the  happiness  of  another,  and  to  be  gladdened  by 
another's  woe. 

'Explanation. — With  Envy  is  commonly  contrasted  Com- 
passion (Misericordia),  which  accordingly,  though  somewhat 
against  the  usual  understanding  of  the  word,  may  be  defined 
as  follows. 

'  XXIV.  Good-nature l  is  Love  in  so  far  as  it  causes  a  man  Good- 
to  be  gladdened  by  the  good  fortune  of  another  and  to  be  uature- 
grieved  by  another's  woe. 

1  Explanation. — With  regard  to  other  properties  of  Envy,  see 

Schol.  to  Prop.  xxiv.  and  Schol.  to  Prop,  xxxii.  of  this  Part. 

These  then  are  the   affections  of  Joy  and  Grief  which  are 

associated  with  the  idea  of  an  external  object  as  cause,  either 

by  itself  or  accidentally.     I  now  pass  on  to  consider  other  The  Author 

passes  from 

1  Spinoza's  word  is  misericordia.     But  I  cannot  agree  that  '  com.  ^  e.c  10us 
•      ,  •  r  -r  having  an 

passion    fits  its  meaning   here  ;  for  '  compassion     in  English  is   not  external 

concerned  with  another's  yood  fortune.     It  seems  to  me  impossible  to  to  those 

maintain    substantial    accuracy    here    if    we     insist     on    rendering  ?iaviu=  ,au 

misericordia    by    the    same   English    word    as    in    the    Explanation  cause. 

of  Def.  xviii.     In  that  explanation  Spinoza  had  in  mind  the  habit  of 

pity  connoted  by  the  word.     Here  he  has  in  mind  the  connotation 

of  kind-heartedness  which  sympathises  with  both  the  good  and  evil 

fortune  of  others.     I  can  find  no  English  word  which  precisely  suits 

both  senses. 


118 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Self-satis- 
faction. 


Humility. 


Repent- 
ance. 


Effect  of 
custom  and 
education. 


affections  which  have  the  idea  of  something  within  us  as 
cause. 

1 XXV.  Self-satisfaction  is  Joy  arising  from  a  man's  contem- 
plation (realisation)  of  himself  and  his  personal  power  of 
action. 

'XXVI.  Humility  is  Grief  arising  from  a  man's  contem- 
plation (realisation)  of  his  personal  impotence  and  helpless- 
ness. 

'Explanation. — Self-satisfaction  finds  its  opposite  in  Humility, 
so  far  as  by  the  former  we  understand  Joy  arising  from 
our  contemplation  of  our  power  of  action.  But  so  far  as  we 
understand  also  by  self-satisfaction,  Joy  with  the  concomitant 
idea  of  something  done  which  we  believe  we  have  accom- 
plished by  a  free l  resolve  of  the  Mind,  then  it  finds  its  oppo- 
site in  Repentance,  which  is  defined  by  us  as  follows. 

' XXVII.  Repentance  is  Grief  with  the  concomitant  idea  of 
something  done  which  we  believe  we  have  accomplished  by  a 
free  resolve  of  the  Mind. 

'  Explanation. — Of  these  affections  we  have  shown  the  causes 
in  Schol.  to  Prop.  li.  and  in  Props,  liii.-lv.  of  this  Part.  As  to 
a  free  resolve  of  the  Mind,  see  Schol.  to  Prop,  xxxv.,  Part  II. 
But  here  I  must  farther  observe  that  there  is  no  wonder  if 
Grief  follow  all  those  actions  which  by  custom  are  called 
wicked,  and  if  Joy  follow  those  which  are  called  right.  For 
that  this  depends  mainly  on  education  we  readily  understand 
from  what  has  been  said  above.2  For  instance,  parents,  by 
reprobating  the  former  class  of  actions  and  continually  scold- 
ing their  children  on  account  of  them,  while  they  urge  and 
praise  the  latter  class  of  actions,  have  succeeded  in  connecting 
emotions  of  Grief  with  the  former  and  of  Joy  with  the  latter. 
Indeed,  this  is  confirmed  by  experience.  For  custom  and 
religion  are  not  the  same  to  all  (races).  On  the  contrary, 
things  sacred  amongst  some  are  profane  amongst  others  ;  and 


1  N.B. — Spinoza  uses  the  word  '  free  '  here  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  un- 
caused, and  not  in  the  sense  assigned  to  it  in  the  doctrine  of  God,  of 
adequate  ideas  and  adequate  causes. 

2  I.e.  in  the  previous  parts  of  the  Ethics. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    119 

things  honourable  among  some  are  base  among  others.  It 
depends  therefore  on  the  education  that  each  has  received, 
whether  he  repents  of  a  deed  or  glories  in  it.1 

'  XXVIII.    Pride  is  thinking   too  much   of  ourselves   on  Pride, 
account  of  Self-love. 

'Explanation. — Pride  therefore  differs  from  Over-estimation 
inasmuch  as  the  latter  refers  to  an  external  object,  but  Pride  to 
the  man  himself  who  thinks  too  much  of  himself.     Farther,  as 
Over-estimation  is  an  affection  or  property  of  Love,  so  Pride  is 
an  affection  or  property  of  Self-love ;  and  it  may  therefore  be 
defined  as  a  man's  Self-love  or  Self-satisfaction  in  so  far  as  it 
causes  him  to  think  of  himself  more  highly  than  he  ought  to 
think2  (see  Schol.  to  Prop.  xxvi.  of   this  Part).      To  this 
affection  there  is  no  contrary.     For  no  one  through  hatred  Pride  has 
of  himself  thinks  of  himself  less  than  he  ought.     Nay,  no  one  contrary, 
thinks   too   little  of   himself  because   he  conceives  himself 
unable  to  do  this  or  that.     For  whatever  a  man  conceives  he 
cannot  do,  the  conception  is  of  necessity  (i.e.  inevitable) ;  and 
by  that  conception  he  is  so  affected  that  he  is  actually  in- 
capable of  doing  what  he  conceives  he  cannot  do.     For  as 
long  as  he  conceives  that  he  is  not  able  to  do  this  or  that,  so 
long  there  is  no  determination  to  action,  and  of  course  so 
long  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  do  it.     And  yet,  if  we 
pay  attention  to  things  dependent  on  opinion  alone,  we  may 
conceive  it  possible  that  a  man  may  think  of  himself  less  than 
is  just.     For  it  may  happen  that  some  one,  when  he  sadly  But  in- 
considers   his    own  helplessness,   may   imagine    that  he   is  gi^ordinL 
despised  by  everybody,  and  this  although  no  one  has  the  tion  to  the 
slightest  idea  of  despising  him.     Besides,  a  man  may  think  opinion  of 
too  little  of  himself  if  he  denies  concerning  his  present  self  otliers>  an 

.  •  *_  i  •  -i    i      apparent 

something  that  has  relation  to  a  future  time  about  which  he  opposite 

doubts.     For  instance,  if  he  should  deny  that  he  can  conceive  maybe6  en- 

gendered. 

1  It  is  obvious  that  in  such  passages  Spinoza  is  speaking  of  mankind 
without  the  light  of  Reason  ;  just  as  St.  Paul  in  Romans  i.  and  ii. 
speaks  of  mankind  without  the  Gospel. 

2  Spinoza  does  not  quote  St.  Paul,  but  the  parallelism  is  tempting. 
'  Plusjwto  sentiat'  is  what  Spinoza  wrote. 


120 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


This  ia 
self-depre- 
ciation. 


Glorying. 


Shame. 


of  anything  with  definite  clearness,  or  that  he  can  either 
desire  nor  do  anything  but  what  is  wicked  or  base.  We  may 
therefore  say  that  a  man  thinks  too  little  of  himself  when  we 
observe  that  through  excessive  fear  of  shame  he  does  not 
dare  those  things  which  others  his  equals  dare.  This  affec- 
tion, then,  we  may  set  over  against  Pride,  and  I  will  call  it 
self-depreciation.  For  as  Pride  springs  from  Self-satisfaction, 
so  from  Humility  springs  Self-depreciation,  which  accordingly 
is  denned  as  follows. 

'  XXIX.  Self-depreciation  is  thinking  too  little  of  one's  self 
through  depression  (Tristilia). 

'Explanation.  Still  we  are  often  in  the  habit  of  contrasting 
Humility  with  Pride  as  its  opposite,  but  only  when  we  fix 
our  attention  more  on  their  effects  than  on  their  nature. 
For  we  are  accustomed  to  call  that  man  proud  who  boasts 
too  much,  who  talks  only  of  his  own  virtues  and  other 
people's  vices,  who  desires  to  take  precedence  of  every  one, 
and  who,  in  fine,  marches  along  with  such  stateliness  and 
pomp  as  are  the  prerogative  of  others  placed  far  above  him. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  call  that  man  humble  who  very  often 
blushes,  who  confesses  his  failings  and  tells  of  the  virtues  of 
others,  who  gives  way  to  every  one,  and  who,  in  fine,  walks 
with  bent  head  and  neglects  to  adorn  himself.  But,  indeed, 
these  affections,  I  mean  Humility  and  Self-depreciation,  are 
very  uncommon.  For  human  nature,  considered  in  itself, 
resists  them  with  all  its  force  (see  Props,  xiii.  and  liv.  of  this 
Part) ;  and  so  those  who  are  supposed  to  be  self-depreciatory 
and  humble  are  very  generally  most  ambitious  and  full  of 
envy. 

1 XXX.  Glorying l  is  Joy  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  some 
action  of  ours  which  we  suppose  others  to  praise. 

'XXXI.  Shame  is  Grief  with  the  concomitant  idea  of  some 
action  which  we  suppose  others  to  reprobate. 


1  The  word  is  justified  by  the  Anglican  Version  of    the  Bible 

(1    Cor.    v.    6,   etc.),    and    seems  nearer  to  Spinoza's  meaning  than 

'self -exaltation,'  which  may  be  totally  regardless  of  the  praise  of 
others. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    121 

'  On  these  affections  see  Schol.  to  Prop.  xxx.  of  this  Part. 
But  here  should  be  noted  the  difference  existing  between 
Shame  and  Modesty.  For  Shame  is  Grief  that  follows  a  deed 
by  which  we  feel  disgraced.  But  Modesty  is  that  Fear  or 
Dread  of  Shame  by  which  a  man  is  restrained  from  doing 
anything  disgraceful.  To  Modesty  is  usually  opposed  Im- 
pudence, which,  properly  speaking,  is  not  an  affection,  as  I 
will  show  in  due  course.  But  the  names  of  affections,  as  I 
have  already  warned  my  readers,  are  matters  rather  of  usage 
than  of  the  nature  of  the  affections. 

1 1  have  now  discharged  the  task  which  I  had  set  myself  of 
explaining  the  affections  of   Joy  and  Grief.     I  go  on  now  Affections 
to  those  which  I  ascribe  to  Desire.  of  Deslre, 

'  XXXII.   Yearning 1   is   the   desire   or   longing   to   enjoy  Yearning, 
something  when  the  longing  is  quickened  by  the  recollection 
of  the  object  of  Desire,  but  is  at  the  same  time  hampered  by 
the  recollection  of  other  things  which  exclude  the  existence 
of  the  desired  object. 

'  Explanation. — Whenever  we  call  to  mind  any  object,  as  we 
have  often  said,  we  are  by  the  very  fact  disposed  to  regard 
that  object  with  the  same  mental  affection  as  if  it  were  pre- 
sent. But  so  long  as  we  are  awake,  this  disposition  or  effort 
is  very  much  hampered  by  the  images  of  things  which  ex- 
clude the  existence  of  the  object  that  we  recollect.  Thus 
whenever  we  recollect  an  object  which  affects  us  with  any 
kind  of  Joy,  we  of  necessity  try  to  contemplate  it  as  present 
and  (to  realise)  the  same  kind  of  Joy  as  before.  But  this 
effort  is  instantly  hampered  by  the  recollection  of  things 
which  exclude  the  existence  of  that  object.  So  that  Yearn- 
ing is  in  reality  a  Grief,  the  exact  opposite  of  that  Joy 
which  arises  from  the  absence  of  an  object  that  we  hate.  (On 
which  see  Schol.  to  Prop,  xlvii.  of  this  Part.)  But  because 
the  name  Yearning  seems  related  to  Desire,  I  include  this 
affection  among  those  of  Desire. 

1  XXXIII.  Emulation  is  the  desire  which  is  begotten  in  us  Emulation. 

1  Desiderhim.  Compare  the  Scottish  word  'wearying  for.'  I 
cannot  agree  that  the  bare  word  •  regret '  renders  it. 


122 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Gratitude. 


Benevo- 
lence. 


Anger. 


Vengeance. 


Cruelty, 


for  an  object  because  we  conceive  that  others  have  the  same 
Desire. 

'  Explanation. — He  who  flees  because  he  sees  others  flee, 
who  fears  because  he  sees  others  fear;  or  again,  he  who 
snatches  his  hand  back  and  moves  his  body  as  though  his 
hand  had  been  burned,  because  he  sees  that  some  one  else 
has  burned  his  hand,  may  be  said  indeed  to  imitate  the 
affection  of  another,  but  we  do  not  call  this  emulation.  Not 
that  we  know  there  is  one  cause  for  emulation  and  another 
for  imitation,  but  because  it  is  an  established  custom  to  call 
only  that  man  emulous  who  imitates  what  we  judge  to  be 
honourable,  useful,  or  agreeable.  But  as  to  the  causes  of 
Emulation,  see  Prop,  xxvii.  of  this  Part  and  the  Scholium. 
And  as  to  the  reason  why  Envy  is  so  often  connected  with 
this  affection,  see  Prop,  xxxii.  of  this  Part  and  the  Scholium. 

1  XXXIV.  Thankfulness  or  Gratitude  is  Desire,  or  a  devotion 
of  Love  by  which  we  endeavour  to  benefit  him,  who,  from  a 
similar  affection  of  Love,  has  done  good  to  us.  (Props,  xxxix. 
and  xli.,  Part  III.) 

'XXXV.  Benevolence  is  the  Desire  of  doing  good  to  any 
one  whom  we  pity  (see  Schol.  to  Prop,  xxvii.  of  this  Part). 

1 XXXVI.  Anger  is  the  Desire  by  which  we  are  impelled 
through  hatred  to  injure  him  whom  we  hate.  (Prop,  xxxix., 
Part  in.) 

'XXXVII.  Vengeance  is  the  Desire  by  which,  through 
mutual  hatred,  we  are  impelled  to  injure  him  who,  through 
a  similar  affection,  has  injured  us.  See  2  Coroll.,  Prop.  xl.  of 
this  Part,  with  the  Scholium. 

1 XXXVIII.  Cruelty  or  Ferocity  is  the  Desire  by  which 
any  one  is  impelled  to  do  harm  to  one  whom  we  love  or 
whom  we  pity.1 

'  Explanation. — To  Cruelty  is  opposed  Mercy,  which  is  not 


1  The  definition  seems  curious  ;  but  it  is  to  a  certain  extent  justi- 
fied by  the  totally  different  views  taken  of  inter-racial  '  atrocities ' 
by  those  who  commit  them  and  the  friends  of  the  sufferers — e.y.  the 
Turks  and  the  English  sympathisers  with  Armenian  Christians,  or  the 
whites  in  South  Africa  and  the  Aborigines  Protection  Society. 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS     123 

a  passion,  but  a  power  of  the  Mind  by  which  a  man  restrains 
anger  and  vengeance. 

'  XXXIX.  Timidity  is  the  Desire  of  avoiding  the  greater  of  Fear, 
two  dreaded  evils  by  (accepting)  the  less.     (See  Schol.   to 
Prop,  xxxix.  of  this  Part.) 

1  XL.  Boldness  is  the  Desire  inciting  a  man  to  do  something  Boldness, 
dangerous  which  his  fellows  fear  to  risk. 

1 XLI.  Cowardice  is  ascribed  to  him  whose  Desire  is  checked  Cowardice, 
by  dread  of  a  danger  which  his  fellows  dare  to  meet. 

'Explanation. — Cowardice,  therefore,  is  nothing  other  than 
the  dread  of  some  evil  which  most  people  do  not  usually  fear ; 
wherefore  I  do  not  include  Cowardice  among  affections  of 
Desire.  Nevertheless  I  have  wished  to  explain  it  here,  be- 
cause so  long  as  we  keep  in  view  Desire,  Cowardice  is  the 
exact  opposite  of  Boldness. 

1 XLIL  Consternation  is  affirmed  of  the  man  whose  desire  Consterna- 
of  avoiding  evil  is  paralysed  by  astonishment  (horror)  at  the  lon' 
evil  he  fears. 

1  Explanation. — Consternation  is  therefore  a  kind  of  coward- 
ice. But  since  Consternation  arises  from  a  double  Dread, 
it  may  be  more  aptly  defined  as  that  Dread  which  holds  a 
man  stupefied  or  wavering,  so  that  he  cannot  remove  an  evil. 
I  say  "stupefied,"  in  so  far  as  we  understand  his  desire  of 
removing  the  evil  to  be  restrained  by  his  astonishment.  I 
say  "wavering,"  in  so  far  as  we  conceive  the  same  Desire 
to  be  hampered  by  the  fear  of  another  evil  which  equally 
tortures  him ;  so  that  he  does  not  know  which  of  the  two 
evils  to  avoid.  (See  Schol.,  Prop,  xxxix.,  and  Schol.,  Prop,  lii., 
Part  in.  Farther,  as  to  Cowardice  and  Boldness,  see  Schol., 
Prop,  li.,  Part  III.) 

'  XLIII.  Courtesy  or  Affability  is  the  Desire  of  doing  those  Courtesy  or 
things  which  please  men  and  omitting  those  which  displease      a  J  lty' 
them. 

'XLIV.  Ambition  is  the  excessive  desire  of  Glory.  Ambition. 

'Explanation. — Ambition  is  a  Desire  by  which  all  the 
Affections  are  nourished  and  strengthened ;  and  on  that 
account  this  particular  Affection    can    hardly  be  overcome. 


124 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


the   excessive   Desire   and  Love    of 


For  so  long  as  a  man  is  influenced  by  any  Desire  at  all,  he  is 
inevitably  influenced  by  this.  "Every  noblest  man,"  says 
Cicero,  "is  chiefly  actuated  by  glory.  Even  Philosophers 
attach  their  names  to  the  books  they  write  concerning  con- 
tempt of  glory,  etc." 

Luxury.  ■  XLV.  Luxuriousness  is  the  excessive  Desire  or  Love  of 

voluptuous  living. 

inebriety.        '  XL VI.  Inebriety  is 
drinking. 

Avarice.  '  XLVII.  Avarice  is   the   excessive   Desire   and  Love   of 

riches. 

Lust.  'XL VIII.  Lust  is  the   like   Love  and   Desire    of  sexual 

intercourse. 

*  Explanation. — Whether  this  desire  of  sexual  intercourse  be 
held  within  bounds  or  not,  it  is  usually  called  Lust.  More- 
over, these  five  last-mentioned  affections  (as  I  have  noted  in 
the  Schol.  to  Prop.  lvi.  of  this  Part)  have  no  contrary  affec- 
tions. For  Affability  is  a  sort  of  Ambition  (as  to  which  see 
Schol.  to  Prop.  xxix.  of  this  Part).  And  I  have  already 
pointed  out  that  Temperance,  Sobriety,  and  Chastity  suggest 
,  and  not  a  passion.  And  although  it 
an  avaricious,  or  an  ambitious,  or  a 
cowardly  man  may  abstain  from  gluttony  or  drunkenness  or 
debauchery,  still  Avarice,  Ambition,  and  Timidity  are  not 
therefore  the  contraries  of  Luxury,  Drunkenness,  and  Lust. 
For  the  avaricious  man  generally  desires  to  guzzle  as  much 
meat  and  drink  as  he  can  at  the  expense  of  some  one  else. 
Again,  the  ambitious  man,  if  only  he  hopes  to  keep  it  a 
secret,  will  restrain  himself  in  nothing,  and  if  he  lives 
amongst  drunkards  and  libertines  will,  precisely  because  he 
is  ambitious,  be  the  more  given  to  the  same  vices.  Lastly, 
the  coward  does  that  which  he  would  rather  not.  For  al- 
though to  avoid  death  he  may  throw  his  wealth  into  the  sea, 
yet  he  remains  avaricious.1  And  if  the  lascivious  man  is 
grieved  because  he  cannot  act  according  to  his  manner,  he 

1  The   subject   of  the   sentence   is   evidently  a   man  who  is  both 
cowardly  and  avaricious. 


a  power  of  the  Mind 
may   well   be   that 


DEFINITIONS  OF  MENTAL  AFFECTIONS    125 

does  not  on  that  account  cease  to  be  lascivious.  Universally, 
therefore,  these  affections  have  regard  not  so  much  to  the 
mere  actions  of  eating,  drinking,  and  so  on,  as  to  Appetite 
and  Love  itself.  Nothing  therefore  can  be  opposed  as  a 
contrary  to  these  affections  except  nobility  of  soul  and 
strength  of  mind,  as  we  shall  see  afterwards. 

1  The  definitions  of  Jealousy  and  other  vacillations  of  Jealousy, 
mind  I  pass  over  in  silence,  partly  because  they  are  com-  etc' 
pounded  of  the  affections  which  we  have  already  denned, 
partly  because  very  many  of  them  have  no  (specific)  names. 
And  this  latter  fact  shows  that,  for  the  practical  purposes  of 
Life,  it  is  sufficient  to  recognise  only  the  genus  to  which 
they  belong.  Moreover,  it  follows  from  the  Definitions  of  the 
affections  which  we  have  described,  that  they  all  spring  from 
Desire,  Joy,  or  Grief,  or  rather  that  there  are  no  other 
affections  beside  these  three,  of  which  each  one  passes  under 
various  names,  varying  as  their  relations  and  external  signs 
vary.  If  now  we  give  attention  to  these  elementary  affec- 
tions, and  to  what  we  have  said  above  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
Mind,  we  shall  be  able  here  to  define  the  affections  in  so  far 
as  they  relate  to  the  Mind  alone. 


General  Definition  of  the  Affections. 

'  An  affection,  called  also  animi  pathema,  is  a  confused 
idea  by  which  the  Mind  affirms  of  the  Body  or  of  any  part 
of  it,  a  greater  or  less  power  of  existence  than  before,  and 
this  increase  of  power  being  given,  the  Mind  is  determined  to 
one  particular  thought  rather  than  another. 

1  Explanation.— I  say  first  that  an  Affection,  or  Passion  of 
the  Mind,  is  a  confused  idea.  For  we  have  shown  (Prop.  iii. 
of  this  Part)  that  the  Mind  is  passive  only  so  far  as  it  has 
inadequate  or  confused  ideas.  I  say  in  the  next  place  by 
which  the  Mind  affirms  of  the  Body  or  of  any  part  of  it  a  greater  or 
less  power  of  existence  than  before.  For  all  ideas  that  we  have 
of  bodies  indicate  the  actual  constitution  of  our  own  body 


126  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

rather  than  the  nature  of  an  external  body  (Coroll.  2, 
Prop,  xiv.,  Part  II.).  But  this  idea  which  constitutes  the  form 
of  an  Affection  must  indicate  or  express  the  condition  of  the 
Body  or  of  some  part  of  it ;  which  condition  the  Body  or  any 
part  of  it  possesses  from  the  fact  that  its  power  of  action 
or  force  of  existence  is  increased  or  diminished,  helped  or 
limited.  But  observe,  when  I  speak  of  a  greater  or  less  force 
of  existence  than  before,  I  do  not  mean  that  the  Mind  compares 
the  present  with  the  past  condition  of  the  Body  :  but  that 
the  idea  which  constitutes  the  form  of  the  Affection  affirms 
of  the  Body  something  which  necessarily  implies  more  or 
less  of  reality  than  before.  And  since  the  Essence  of  the 
Mind  consists  in  this  (Props,  xi.  and  xiii.,  Part  II.),  that  it 
affirms  the  actual  existence  of  its  Body,  and  since  we  under- 
stand by  Perfection,  the  very  essence  of  a  thing,  it  follows 
therefore  that  the  Mind  passes  to  a  greater  or  less  perfection 
when  it  happens  to  it  to  affirm  of  its  Body  or  of  some  part 
of  it  what  involves  a  greater  or  less  reality  than  before. 
When  therefore  I  have  said  above  that  the  Mind's  power  of 
thought  was  increased  or  diminished,  I  intended  nothing 
other  than  that  the  Mind  has  formed  an  idea  of  its  Body  or 
of  some  part  of  its  Body,  which  idea  expresses  more  or  less  of 
reality  than  the  Mind  had  before  affirmed  of  its  Body.  For 
the  excellence  of  ideas  and  the  actual  power  of  thought  are 
estimated  by  the  excellence  of  the  object.  Finally,  I  have 
added  "  which  being  given  the  Mind  itself  is  determined  to  one 
particular  thought  rather  than  another"  that  I  might  also  ex- 
press the  nature  of  Desire  in  addition  to  that  of  Joy  and 
Grief  which  the  first  part  of  the  Definition  explains.' 


PART   IV 

THE   BONDAGE   OF   MAN 

The  Fourth  and  Fifth  Parts  of  the  Ethica  contain  the  Scope  of 

practical  application    of  the   principles  laboriously  de-  and  Fifth 

tailed  in  the  three  previous  Parts.     And  this  practical 

application  consists  in  an  exposition  of  the  alternative 

effects  or  consequences  to  man  of  the  truths  propounded. 

That  is  to  say,  those  truths  make  either  for  the  moral 

bondage  of  man  or  else  for  his  moral  freedom.      And 

the  question  as  to  which  of  these  two  alternative  results 

is  to  be  realised  in  our  own  case  will  be  decided  by 

the  attitude  we  adopt  toward  the  truths  already  proved. 

Thus  if  we  are  content  to  have  only  inadequate  ideas,  A  practical 

,       ,  i        •        i  ,  •      application 

and  always  to  be  inadequate  causes,  we  must  remain  of  prin- 
in  bondage.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  achieve  a  down. 
serviceable  stock  of  adequate  ideas,  and — at  least  in 
the  chief  affairs  of  life — those  of  conduct — can  be  our- 
selves adequate  causes,  then  we  attain  the  only  freedom 
possible  to  active  life  whether  in  body  or  mind,  the 
consciousness  of  spontaneity,  of  acting  as  we  would, 
and  not  as  we  are  compelled. 

1  Human  impotence  in  the  discipline  and  control  of  the  Idea  of 
mental    and    bodily    affections   I   call    bondage   (servitufcm),  bondage. 
For  a  man  subordinated  to  his  affections  is  not  under  his 

127 


128  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

own  dominion  but  under  that  of  fortune.  And  under  that 
power  it  often  befalls  that  although  he  may  see  what  is  better 
for  himself,  he  is  compelled  to  follow  what  is  worse.  The 
reason  for  this,  and  what  else  of  good  or  evil  the  affections 
possess,  I  purpose  to  show  in  this  Part.  But  before  I  begin 
this,  I  think  well  to  make  a  few  prefatory  remarks  on 
perfection  and  imperfection  and  on  good  and  evil.' 
The  idea  of     Those  prefatory  words  I  proceed  as   usual  to  para- 

perfection  c  J  r  *■ 

purely        phrase  with   here  and   there  a   free   translation.      The 

anthropo-     A 

morphic,     idea  of  Perfection,  says  the  Master,  that  is,  finishing, 

or  completion,  originates  in  the  experience  of  a  finite 

maker,  for  instance,  of  a  house.      Such  an  one,  when 

he  has  got  the  roof  on  and  has  put  the  last  touch  to 

measured     everything  inside,  says,    '  There,   that   is   finished — per* 

tention  of    fected.'     And  of  any  such  mortal  work,  whether  house, 

m  Pit  pt 

or  carriage,  or  boat,  of  which  we  know  by  experience 

the  intended  final  shape,  the  purpose  of  the  maker,  we 

can  say  whether  it  is  finished,  that  is,  perfect,  or  only 

and  the       part  finished  and  imperfect.     'But  if  any  man  sees  a 

latter  being  r  ,  J 

unknown,    product,  the   like   of  which   he  never  saw   before  and 
mentis       does  not  know  the  intention  of  the  maker,  that  man 
certainly  cannot  say  whether  the  thing  is  perfect  (finished) 
or  not.'     To  put  a  case  unknown  in  the  Master's  days ; 
suppose  we  come  upon  a  '  find '  of  pre-pala3olithic,  or 
SitMc  im- '  eo^n^c '  weapons.     It  is  quite  possible  there  may  be 
piements.     many  unfinished  among  them.     Yet  it  would  be  difficult, 
if  not  impossible,  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge 
to  say  confidently  which  they  are.     For  whatever  know- 
ledge  we    may    have,    even    of    the    oldest   palaeolithic 
weapons  hitherto  observed,  it  does  not  avail  us  much 
here.     Because  a  very  much  rougher  article  served  the 
purpose  of  the   earlier   race,  and  what  to  the  eolithic 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  129 

man  was  a  perfect  weapon  or  tool,  his  successors  would 
regard  as  unfinished.  Thus  the  modern  collector  whose 
ideas  have  been  formed  by  relics  of  a  more  advanced 
stone  age,  may  have  often  thrown  away,  as  mere  flakes  or 
cases  of  abrasion  by  natural  forces,  the  '  perfected '  tools 
of  the  first  stone  users.  In  fact,  as  Spinoza  says,  we 
do  not  know  the  intention  of  the  makers,  and  therefore 
cannot  possibly  tell  whether  that  intention  had  been 
fulfilled,  or,  in  other  words,  whether  the  product  is 
perfect  or  not. 

But,  of  course,  this  simple  notion  of  perfection,  in  the  Abstract 

.  .  .        perfection 

sense   of  being  finished,  often  merges  m  a  conception  idea  of 

much  more  abstract.     For  a  number  of  finished  articles 

of  the  same  kind  inevitably  suggest  a  pattern  or  type, 

by  which  all  such  things  must  be  judged.     If  they  tally  in  human 

&rt  5 

with  the  type,  they  are  perfect ;  but  if  they  do  not  so 
tally,  then,  however  sure  the  maker  may  be  that  they 
are  finished,  they  are  judged  imperfect.     And  this  habit 
of  forming  in  the  mind  ideal  types  has  been  extended 
to  many  other  things  besides  the  works  of  man.     Thus, 
as  soon  as  men  conceive  to  themselves  a  type  of  the  in  objects 
best  race-horse,  or  the  best  rose,  such  ideals  are  con-  human1* 
sidered  as  finished,  complete,  perfect,  and  all  particular  m  eres ' 
race-horses  or  roses  are  judged  by  the  degree  in  which 
they  approximate  to  the  conventional  ideal.     Then  from 
objects  of  man's  particular  delight,  such  as  horses  and 
roses,  this  notion  of  an  ideal  by  which  all  particular  in  all 

Nature. 

objects  must  be  judged  is  easily  extended  to  all  Nature. 

'When,  therefore/  says  Spinoza,  '  men  see  anything  in 
Nature  which  scarcely  agrees  with  the  ideal  conception 
they  cherish  of  that  particular  thing,  they  believe  that 

I 


130  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

And  so        Nature  herself  has  been  at  fault,  and  has  left  that  thing 

Nature  is  ... 

supposed     imperfect.'      But  this  is  a   misimpression  arising  from 

to  have  . 

failed  of  her  an   inveterate   prejudice.      For   men   will   have   it  that 

Nature  had  the  particular  end  in  view  and  failed,  when, 

as  it  has  already  been  shown,  Nature  has  no  end  at  all 

in   view.      That   eternal   and   infinite   Being  which  we 

Absurdity    call  God  or  Nature,  is  because  He  is.     And  this  sublime 

where  no     necessity1  is  equally  predicable  of  Him  when  we  con- 

pos?ibie.1S   ceive  of  Him  as  acting  and  causing  and  directing.     If 

He  is  because  He  is,  He  acts  because  He  is,  and  the 

action  is  as  determinate  as  the  Being.     As  Spinoza  puts 

it:  'the  reason,  therefore,  or  cause  why  God  or  Nature 

acts  and  why  He  exists  is  one  and  the  same.' 

The  being        Can  it  be  said  that  God  is,  or  exists  for  any  purpose  ? 2 

incommen-  No ;  even  the  very  late  Hebrew  editor  who  redacted  the 

purp^seT1^  nrsfc  vision  of  Moses  on  Sinai  appears  to  have  felt  the 

absurdity  of  such  a  question  when  he  interpreted  the 

traditional  name  Jahweh  as  equivalent  to  '  I  am  that 

I  am.'     To  assign  an  object  or  purpose  to  the  Infinite 

who  embodies  in  Himself  all  possible  purposes  would 

But  if  so,     surely  imply  a  defect  in  reverence.      But  if  the  Being 

actio™*    nas  no  purpose,  what  we  call  the  divine  action,  which 

aspect  of aU  is  onty  an  aspect  of  Being  revealed  to  human  activity, 

haveSnoan  can  nave  n0  purpose  either.     This  aspect  of  the  divine 

purpose,      nature  also  is  because  it  -is,  and  has  no  other  reason. 

The  idea  of  '  final  causes '  of  action,  involving  motive 

1  A  free  necessity,  because  external  compulsion  is  out  of  the 
question. 

2  If  it  be  said  that  God  exists  for  the  good  of  His  creatures,  it 
should  be  remembered  that  the  creatures  are  all  '  parts  and  propor- 
tions '  of  God.  But  when  we  speak  of  anything  existing  for  a  purpose, 
we  always  mean  a  purpose  outside  itself. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  131 

and  purpose,  is  therefore  inconsistent  with  infinite  and 
eternal  Being. 

How  then  has  the  belief  in  final  causes  for  divine  origin  of 
action  arisen  ?     Clearly  from  the  inveterate  human  habit  final  causes 
of  measuring  everything  by  desire.     Thus  when  we  say 
that  habitation  is  the  final  cause  of  this  or  that  house, 
we  mean  that  a  man,  having  conceived  the  comforts  of 
domestic  life,  had  the  desire  of  building  a  house  in  which 
those  comforts  might  be  secured.      Now  this  order  of 
thought  pervades  all  human  life,  in  which  every  action 
has  its  motive ;  and  that  motive  is  desire,  of  which  the 
fulfilment  constitutes  a  final  cause  at  which  the  action 
aims.     It  was  therefore  inevitable  that  as  men  began  from  false 
to  think  about   the   powers   actuating   Nature,  and    to 
personify  or  defy  them,  they  should  assume,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  that  final  causes  held   in  the  world  of  the 
gods  a  place  precisely  similar  to  that  which  they  hold 
amongst  men.     And  this  false  analogy  was  persistently 
maintained    throughout   the   whole   course   of  religious 
evolution  from  animism  or  fetishism  through  polytheism, 
henotheism,  and  even  up  to  the  most  refined  monotheism. 
At  this  last  stage,  however,  the  inconsistency  between  the  false- 
God's  eternity  and  the  attribution  to  Him  of  temporal  which  is 
or  temporary  purpose  was  felt  very  early  in  the  growth  realised  in 
of  Christian  theology,  and  becomes  abundantly  evident  Mono-5  £ 
in  the  devotional  paradoxes  of  St.  Augustine.      But  in thelsm 
proportion  as  Monotheism  merges  in  Pantheism,  those 
devotional    paradoxes    grow    increasingly   unreal,   until 
they  are  transfigured  into  the  '  intellectual  love  of  God ' 
preached  by  Spinoza,  the  love  which  drops  the  notion  and  aban- 
of  divine  purpose,  being  content  to  know  that  things  Pantheism. 


132 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


are  because  they  are,  and  could  not  have  been  other- 
wise, since  if  the  Whole  could  be  realised,  they  are 
eternally  perfect.1 

This  surrender  of  any  belief  in  '  eternal  purpose '  need 
not,   however,   prevent  our  treating   of  Nature's  'con- 


Nature's 

contriv- 
ances and 

purpose  as    trivances/  and  of  the  concatenation  of  events  in  human 

a  modus 
cog  it  audi. 


Case  of 
1  natural 
selection.' 


history  as  though  superhuman  purpose  were  really  in- 
volved. For  that  is  a  convenient  modus  cogitandi, 
fruitful  enough  in  suggestion.  It  is  like  the  injection 
of  colouring  matter  in  microscopic  anatomical  prepara- 
tions— not  a  real  part  of  the  object  to  be  studied,  yet 
serving  to  make  the  relation  of  parts  more  obvious  to 
human  faculty.  Thus  Darwinians  have  often  spoken 
and  do  still  speak  of  the  c  purpose '  for  which  an  insect 
proboscis  was  gradually  lengthened  and  shaped  by 
'natural  selection,'  or  the  blubber  of  the  whale  was 
exaggerated,  or  a  nictitating  membrane  given  to  the 
eyes  of  various  tribes,  or  the  fur  of  the  mole  caused 
to  grow  erect.  Yet  all  the  while  the  essential  assump- 
tion of  the  theory  is  that  there  was  no  'purpose'  at 
all.  Nevertheless  the  licence  of  language  has  been 
found  highly  convenient ;  for  the  supposition  of  a  special 
purpose  in  a  variation  is  a  short  and  emphatic  way  of 
stating  its  particular  use.  And  since,  in  speaking  of 
the  Eternal  All,  we  are  necessarily  limited  by  the  finite 
modes  of  human  speech,  a  similar  licence  must  be  allowed 
to  the  Pantheist,  provided  only  that  we  are  as  well  on 
our  guard  as  Naturalists  against  the  superstitions  en- 
gendered by  a  mere  necessity  of  finite  thought. 

1  On  Spinoza's  use  of  this  epithet,  as  distinct  from  the  use  he 
condemns,  see  farther  on. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  133 

The  conclusion  is  that  the  ascription  of  final  cause  Spinoza's 
or  purpose  to  Infinite  God  must  be  classed  among  what  reality.  ' 
SpiDoza  calls  '  inadequate  ideas '  ;  that  is,  it  is  a  case 
in  which  ■  God  has  this  or  that  idea,  not  merely  so  far 
as  He  forms  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  but  in  so 
far  as  He  has  at  the  same  time  with  the  human  mind 
the  idea  also  of  another  thing '  while  this  also  involves 
another  thing,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  In  other  words, 
our  impression  is  an  illusion  arising  from  the  impossi- 
bility of  seeing  or  conceiving  the  whole  Universe  at 
once.  Hence  it  is  obviously  presumptuous  to  apply  to 
the  divine  action  a  test  derived  from  the  harmony  or 
otherwise  of  His  works  and  ways  with  human  desire. 
Yet  if  we  cannot  suppress  the  consciousness  that  some 
things  in  the  Universe  please  us  better  than  others, 
there  is  a  truer  standard  of  comparison  than  that  of 
human  desire.  Not  that  it  is  entirely  free  from  anthropo- 
morphism; but,  at  any  rate,  it  is  not  so  liable  to 
superstitious  abuse.  According  to  the  Master,  this  is 
the  degree  of  reality  involved.     For  while  all  creatures  "Degrees  of 

...  interest 

have  their  being  in  God,  some,  at  least  to  our  human  propor- 
perceptions,  have  more  being  than  others.     For  instance,  intensity 
a  crystal  is  more  interesting  than  an  amorphous  mass,  and  ° 
its  more  complicated  structure  impresses  us  with  a  feel- 
ing of  greater  intensity  of  being.     In  the  same  way  a 
living  cell  is  more  complicated  still,  and  has  yet  more 
of  being.     Thus  we  may  ascend  from  degree  to  degree 
of  complication  till  we  reach  human  mind,  human  genius, 
a  Plato,  an  Augustine,  a  Shakespeare.    On  the  other  hand, 
some  objects  and  creatures  are,  to  our  feeling,  charac- 
terised by  limitation  and  negation  rather  than  by  positive 


134 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Imperfec- 
tion is 
negation, 


but  does 
not  imply 
a  mistake 
of  Nature. 


Weakness 
of  the  flesh 


qualities :  such  as  a  child  born  blind  and  deaf,  or  an 
idiot,  or  an  incompetent  fool.  For  it  is  by  negation 
that  these  come  short  of  their  types.  Such  we  may 
call  imperfect,  if  we  like,  and  regard  them  as  possessing 
less  of  reality  than  other  creatures  of  their  kind.  But 
this  is  not  because  they  lack  anything  properly  belong- 
ing to  them  as  finite  modes  of  the  divine  attributes ; 
nor  has  JVatura  Naturans,  in  forming  them,  committed 
any  mistake.  For  this  would  imply  that  in  their 
creation  —  to  use  accustomed  phraseology  —  a  higher 
purpose  was  possible  and  missed.  But  as  already  seen, 
this  is  inadmissible.  For,  as  Spinoza  writes,  'nought 
belongs  to  anything  in  Nature  except  that  which  follows 
necessarily  from  its  efficient  cause,1  and  whatever  follows 
from  the  necessity  of  the  nature  of  an  efficient  cause, 
is  inevitable.' 

In  following  the  Master  through  such  inexorable 
reasoning  we  are  haunted  by  the  shadow  of  evil  as  we 
have  felt  it  in  our  own  lives,  and  are  at  times  tempted 
almost  to  think  that  he  is  mocking  us  with  a  hardy  denial 
of  black  realities  which  sometimes  threaten  to  make  life 
unendurable.  But  Spinoza  is  much  too  profoundly  in 
earnest  to  indulge  in  a  mocking  vein,  and  rarely  has 
recourse  even  to  gentle  satire.  He  does  not  for  a  moment 
deny  the  personal  miseries  of  our  human  bondage. 
Undoubtedly,  for  those  who  insist  that  God  must  exist 
for  a  purpose,  and  that  purpose  the  happiness  of  our- 
selves, the   Master's   teaching   is   useless  and  hopeless. 


1  The  particular  'efficient  cause'  is,  of  course,  only  a  link  in  the 
infinite  network  of  causation,  which,  sub  specie  eternitatis,  is  a 
standing  and  motionless  system. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  135 

Still,  for  those  of  more  open  mind  it  is  worth  while  to 
hear  what  he  has  to  say  on  the  problem  of  evil. 

1  As  to  Good  and  Evil  they  connote  nothing  actual  in  Spinoza  on 
things  themselves,  nor  are  they  anything  but  modes  of  E^  an 
thought  or  notions  formed  by  comparison  of  things  with  each 
other.  For  one  and  the  same  thing  may  be  at  the  same  time 
good  and  evil,  and  also  neutral.  Thus  music  is  good  for 
brooding  melancholy,  bad  for  acute  sorrow,  and  for  the  deaf 
neither  good  nor  bad.  Yet  however  this  may  be,  we  must 
stick  to  the  terms ' — good  and  evil — '  for  since  we  desire  to 
form  an  ideal  of  human  nature  for  contemplation,  it  will  be 
useful  to  us  to  retain  these  words  in  the  sense  I  have  assigned 
to  them.  And  so  in  what  follows  I  shall  understand  by  '  good ' 
whatever  we  know  clearly  (certainly)  to  be  a  mean  whereby 
we  may  approach  more  and  more  to  that  ideal  of  human 
nature  which  we  set  before  us.  By  evil,  on  the  other  hand, 
I  shall  understand  whatever  we  clearly  know  to  hinder  us 
from  attaining  that  ideal.  Farther  we  shall  call  men  perfect 
or  imperfect  in  so  far  as  they  approach  to  or  fall  short  of 
that  ideal.' 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  Master  here  says  nothing  Spinoza's 
about   pain   or   disease.     But   it   is   implied   that   such  indifference 
things  are  evil  only  when  they  prevent  the  attainment  or  pa^6 
of  ideal  manhood.     For  they  may  very  well  be  good,  if 
in  any  case  they  promote  its  attainment.     Are  we  then 
to  suppose  that  Spinoza  was  indifferent  to,  or  rejoiced  in 
the  dread  disease  which  carried  him  off  in  the  flower  of 
his  age  ?     No  ;  but  he  believed  himself  to  have  only  '  an 
inadequate   idea'    of   it.     That   is,    as   more   than   once  explained 

by  bis 

explained  before  in  terms  of  the  Master,  the  persecuted  theory  of 

.   ,  ,       .,.  ~    .  ,  „         ,.    .         .  -,         inadequate 

sick  and  ailing  Spinoza  was  only  part  of  a  divine  idea,  ideas, 
while  his  true  significance  could  not  be  attained  without 
a  comprehension  of  the  rest  of  that  divine  idea ;  and  this 


136 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Plea  of 
individual 
desire 
irrelevant. 


Things 
most  unde- 
sirable 
from  a 
human 
point  of 
view  may- 
be essential 
to  the 
perfection 
of  the 
Universe. 


Suggestive- 
ness  of 
human 
experience. 


■would  involve  a  comprehension  of  the  Infinite  which  is 
unknowable.  Now,  whether  we  approve  of  this  attitude 
of  mind  or  not,  it  at  least  enables  us  to  understand  in 
what  sense  the  Master  declares  that  everythiug  in  the 
Universe  is  perfect.  For  he  means  that  it  could  be  no 
other  without  marring  the  harmony  of  the  divine 
Whole. 

What  bearing  has  this  upon  the  often  pathetic  pleas 
of  individual  desire  ?  Such  pleas  have,  as  we  shall  find, 
their  proper  place  in  disciplined  efforts  towards  the 
attainment  of  ideal  manhood.  But  as  bearing  upon  the 
perfection  or  imperfection  of  the  Universe,  they  have  no 
relevancy;  they  are  nil.  For  just  as  in  Cyclopsean 
masonry  the  most  eccentric  and  distorted  stones,  as  well 
as  the  most  symmetrical,  fill  a  place  and  exert  a  pressure 
in  compacting  and  balancing  the  whole,  so  everything  in 
Nature  and  life  that  seems  to  us  abnormal  and  even 
repulsive  is  essentially  necessary  in  precisely  that 
abnormal  or  repulsive  form.  And  we  may  in  faith 
presume  that  if  our  inadequate  idea  of  such  dark  features 
of  Nature  could  be  made  adequate  in  the  sense  of  seeing 
them  as  God  sees  them — in  all  their  relationships  to  the 
infinite  Whole — we  should  not  desire  to  alter  them  if  we 
could. 

Even  in  our  ignorance  we  can  occasionally  see  that  if 
our  idea  of  what  we  call  an  evil  were  supplemented  by  a 
perception  of  only  finite  wider  relationships,  we  should 
cease  to  call  it  evil.  For  is  not  this  human  life  of  ours, 
with  its  endurance  and  its  heroisms,  noble  in  our  eyes  ? 
But  how,  without  suffering,  could  it  have  been  what  it 
is  ?     Undoubtedly  its  moral  glory  has  been  kindled  by 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  137 

the  stress  of  conflict  through  which  it  has  passed.  And 
the  afflictions  which  in  each  generation  were  mourned 
as  evil,  have  produced  greater  good. 

Yet  though  such  reflections  may  seem  to  throw  some  This  not 

Spinoza's 

little  light  on  the  mysteries  of  sorrow,  it  must  be  con-  method, 
fessed  that  they  fall  far  short  of  the  Master's  method, 
not  only  in  scope,  but  in  principle.  For  he,  denying 
that  the  action  any  more  than  the  being  of  the  Eternal 
can  have  any  purpose  at  all,  finds  everything  perfect  in 
the  sense  of  sharing  in  the  absolute  Keality.  Or,  in 
other  words,  each  part  and  proportion,  when  imagina- 
tively considered  in  all  its  relations,  is  just  what  it  ought 
to  be,  neither  more  nor  less,  as  a  constituent  of  the 
Eternal. 

But  if  it  be  asked  why  then  should  we  try  to  alter  why  then 

'  S6Glt  to 

anything,  seeing  that  all  is  as  it  should  be  ?  the  answer  alter  any- 
is  not  so  difficult  as  it  seems.  For  this  very  tendency  to  ing" 
change  is  part  of  the  perfect  order  of  Nature.  And  the 
inspiration,  of  which  we  are  in  various  degrees  conscious, 
to  modify  ourselves  or  other  things  in  the  direction  of  a 
human  purpose  or  an  ideal,  is  as  essential  to  the  complete- 
ness of  the  Universe  as  is  gravitation  or  cohesion.  The 
fundamental  antithesis  between  the  eternity  of  the  Eternity 
Universe  and  our  human  perception  of  temporal  succes- 
sions of  change  within  its  parts  belongs  to  the  region  of 
the  unknowable,  which  was  perhaps  not  sufficiently 
recognised  by  Spinoza.  But  granting  this,  we  may  freely 
assert  that  the  necessity  laid  upon  us  of  dealing  with 
phenomenal  changes  in  our  pursuit  of  human  purpose  is 
not  in  the  least  inconsistent  with  Spinoza's  theory,  that, 
as  eternal  being  and  doing  are  determined  by  the  divine 


138  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Nature,  so  the  phenomenal  existence  and  phenomenal 
action  in  time  of  every  finite  part  is  determined  by  the 
derivative  nature  it  possesses  in  virtue  of  being  a  mode 
of  some  infinite  attribute  of  God.  There  is  nothing  in 
all  this  to  neutralise  the  only  genuine  freedom,  which 
is  action  from  within,  as  distinguished  from  action  by 
compulsion  from  without.  Nor  ought  the  joy  of  moral 
power  and  of  devotion  to  high  ends  to  be  in  the  least 
diminished  by  the  certain  truth  that  it  belongs  to  an 
ordered  Whole. 
Instinct  of       Throughout  this  Part  of  Spinoza's  Ethics,  as  in  the  pre- 

self-preser- 

vation  in-  ceding  Parts,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  is  assumed 
but  fallible,  as  fundamental.  But  while  ineradicable,  it  may  be 
misguided,  and  may  even  take  that  for  self-preservation 
which  is  really  self-destruction.  If  it  be  asked  how  this 
can  happen  in  a  Universe  identical  with  God,  the  answer 
has  already  been  given,  for  no  purpose x  of  God  is 
defeated ;  and  our  conception  of  the  human  tragedy  is  an 
'  inadequate  idea.''  If  we  could  see  it  as  God  sees  it,  and 
all  that  He  sees  along  with  it,  we  should  know  that  it 
forms  part  of  the  perfection  of  the  Whole. 
Definitions.  The  definitions  given  at  the  beginning  of  this  Part 
need  not  detain  us,  for  they  have  already  been  anticipated 
in  our  paraphrase  of  the  preface,  We  know  what  the 
Master  means  by  '  good '  and  '  evil.'  Things  contingent 
are  so  in  appearance  only ;  and  so  with  things  possible. 
Yet  their  apparent  contingency  and  possibility  have 
much  to  do  with  our  moral  trials.  The  end  or  final  cause 
for  which  we  do  anything  is  the  fulfilment  of  desire. 
Virtue  and  Power  are  identical.     '  That  is,  virtue  so  far 

1  Seepages  134-136. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  139 

as  it  belongs  to  man  is  the  essential  being  or  nature  of 
the  man,  so  far  as  he  possesses  the  power  of  achieving 
such  things  as  may  be  understood  solely  through  the 
laws  of  his  own  nature.'  My  own  understanding  of  this 
I  would  illustrate  thus.  When  Socrates  refused  to  join  Socrates 
in  putting  to  the  Assembly  the  illegal  vote  of  vengeance  illegal  vote. 
on  the  victors  of  Arginusae  for  their  alleged  neglect,  he 
acted  according  to  the  essence  of  his  own  nature,  apart 
from  external  influences.  His  claim  to  inspiration  at 
such  crises  does  not  in  the  least  interfere  with  the  fitness 
of  the  illustration.  Because  according  to  the  doctrine  of 
Spinoza  the  man  Socrates  was  a  finite  modification  of 
certain  divine  attributes.  Such  modified  attributes  con- 
stituted the  essential  being  of  the  individual,  and  so  long 
as  the  influences  under  which  he  acted  fell  within  the 
limits  of  those  modified  attributes,  what  he  did  could  be 
understood  '  solely  through  the  laws  of  his  own  nature.' 
Thus  the  virtue  and  the  power  of  Socrates  were  one  and 
the  same. 

But  now  let  us  take  a  very  different  case,  that  of  Judas 

Iseariot. 

Judas  Iseariot — the  historicity  of  details  being  of  no 
importance  to  our  purpose.  Now  the  essence  of  Judas 
was  also  a  finite  modification  of  infinite  divine  attributes. 
And  on  Spinoza's  theory,  if  Judas  had  acted  solely  from 
influences  falling  within  the  limits  of  those  finite  modi- 
fications,  he  could  not  have  gone  wrong.  But  the  possible 
rewards  of  iniquity  excited  the  passion  of  greed  which 
enslaved  him.  He  acted  no  more  as  a  free  man  moved 
by  impulses  spontaneously  arising  within,  and  explicable 
only  by  the  laws  of  his  own  nature.  He  was  no  longer 
governed  by  reason,  but  became  the  slave  of  passion. 


140  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Thus   virtue  became   impossible  just   in  proportion   as 
power  was  lost,  and  vice  was  victorious.1 

Such  is  the  view  of  human  nature  assumed  throughout 
the  Fourth  Part  of  the  Ethics.  We  are  passive,  or  we 
suffer — not  necessarily  pain,  but  servitude — so  far  as  our 
part  in  Nature  cannot  be  clearly  conceived  by  itself  or 
apart  from  other  things — or,  as  we  might  put  it,  so  long 
as  we  have  no  individuality.  Undoubtedly  this  sounds 
strange,  coming  from  a  teacher  who  regarded  God  and 
the  Universe  as  identical,  and  who  insisted  that  the 
infinite  is  indivisible.  But,  as  I  have  had  occasion  to 
observe  elsewhere,  even  Spinoza  could  not  always  adapt 
the  imperfections  of  language  to  his  purpose.  And, 
taking  the  whole  context  into  view,  I  think  it  probable 
that  what  Spinoza  has  immediately  in  view  here  is  not 
the  primary  idea  of  the  man  as  a  finite  modification  of 
certain  divine  attributes,  but  rather  the  secondary  con- 
ception thence  arising  of  an  apparent  centre  of  spontaneous 
action.  A  man  who  acts  from  reason  feels  his  impulses 
rise  within  himself  and  is  free.  But  a  man  who  acts 
from  passion  —  i.e.  passive  susceptibility  to  outward 
attractions  or  repulsions — is  drawn  hither  and  thither 
against  his  judgment,  and  is  a  slave.  In  the  one  case — 
according  to  Spinoza — the  man's  doings  are  explicable 
from  the  laws  of  his  own  nature  alone  as  a  finite  and 
definite  expression  of  God;  in  the  other  we  have  to 
account  for  much  by  delusive  external  images,  temptations 
and  snares.  Or,  as  the  Master  otherwise  puts  it,  the  man 
under  moral  bondage  is  \  an  inadequate  cause.' 

1  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  I  regard  such  details  of  Spinoza's 
system  as  infallible,  but  they  are  worth  understanding. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  141 

But  it  is  not  suggested  that  man  can  cease  to  be  a  Absolute 
.draw  himself  wholly  from  external 

influences 


part  of  Nature,  or  withdraw  himself  wholly  from  external  to  exSrnaT 


influence.  All  that  can  be  done  is  to  consider  carefully  impossible. 
our  natural  and  social  surroundings,  and  to  strive,  as 
far  as  in  us  lies,  to  keep  the  proper  development  of  our 
individuality  free  from  undue  submission  to  forces  from 
without.     And  this  is  no  easy  task.     For  '  the  force  and  A  test  of 

servitude. 

increase  of  any  passion,  together  with  its  persistence,  is 
not  limited  by  the  strength  of  our  instinct  of  self-pre- 
servation, but  by  the  proportion  between  this  and  the 
force  of  an  external  cause.'1  And  thus  'the  strength  of 
any  passion  or  affection  may  overwhelm  all  the  rest  of  a 
man's  energies 2  or  power ;  so  that  the  affection  may 
obstinately  stick  to  the  man.'     (Prop,  vi.) 

Venturing  again  to  illustrate  the  Master  by  our  own  niustra- 
observations  of  life,  we  may  recall  cases  of  dipsomania  victim  of 
in  which  the  victim  is  perfectly  aware  that  he  is  drink- 
ing  himself  to  death.  He  does  not  want  to  die,  but 
'the  force  and  increase  of  the  passion '  for  drink  (is  not 
limited  by '  the  poor  creature's  instinct  of  self-preserva- 
tion, '  but  only  by  the  proportion  between  this  and  the 
force  of  the  external  cause,'  which  latter  is  in  this  case 
overwhelming. 

Is  there  then   no   help  ?      Yes,  there  is.      But  such  A  possible 

remedy* 

passions  'can  neither  be  controlled  nor  removed  except 
by  an  impression  {affectum)  contrary  to  and  stronger 
than  the  passion  to  be  controlled.'  It  is  necessary  there- 
fore to  discuss  the  considerations  affecting  the  relative 


1  Prop,  v.,  Pt.  iv.  ;  see  also  demonstration  of  Prop,  vi.,  Pars.  iv. 

2  Actio7ies — but  the  word  here  is  equivalent  to  the  whole  being  as 
active,  which  is  fairly  expressed  by  the  sum  of  energ}*. 


142  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Conditions  powers  of  various  feelings.     Thus  we  learn  that  affections 
the  strength  arising  from  causes  realised  as  present  are  stronger  than 
tions.         those  dependent  on  remote  contingencies.      (Prop,  ix.) 
Here  again  we  may  bring  our  experience  of  life  to  bear. 
For  cases   have    been   known   in  which  an  apparently 
hopeless  drunkard,  being  suddenly  confronted  by  some 
special   circumstances,  with   the   results  of   cruelty  in- 
flicted on  wife  and  children  by  his  indulgence,1  has  really 
felt  the  force  of  an  impression  contrary  to  and  stronger 
Present       than  the  passion  that  has  debased  him.     Yet  mere  warn- 

influences 

stronger      ings  of  future  effects  of  his  conduct  have  been  of  no  use. 
orcontin-    The  same  advantage  of  causes  realised  as  present  over 
those  regarded  as  remote  contingencies  might  also  be 
illustrated  by  the  greater  social  influence  of  the  actual 
millionaire  as  compared  with  that  of  the  brilliant  but 
impecunious  young  man  who  has  just  proved  himself  a 
genius.     And,  generally  speaking,  we  know  how  hard  it 
has  been  for  ourselves,  and  how  difficult  it  has  been  to 
persuade  others,  to  set  the  probable  gain  of  ten  years 
hence  against  the  enthralling  attractions  of  immediate 
pleasure  or  ease.     Similarly,  hard  present  facts,  such  as 
the  need  of  bread,  have  more  influence  in  stimulating 
exertion    than    the   contingent   or   possible    advantages 
promised  to  temporary  self-denial  for  purposes  of  self- 
culture. 
Knowledge      Even  true  knowledge  of  good  and  evil — that   is,  of 
power ^nuit  what   makes    for   and   against   self-preservation    in   its 
feeling?       highest  sense,    attainment  of  the   ideal   self — does   not 
control  passion  unless  that   knowledge  takes  the  form 

1  The  records  of  the  National  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Children  show  many  such  cases. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  143 

of  mental  affection,  or,  as  we  should  say,  of  a  feeling,1 
a  saying  which  is  merely  a  remarkable  instance  of  the 
common-sense  always  underlying  Spinoza's  philosophy. 
Now,  according  to  previous  lessons,  knowledge  of  good 
or  evil  is  itself  nothing  but  a  feeling  or  affection  of  joy 
or  grief,  that  is,  consciousness  of  passage  to  a  greater 
or  a  lesser  degree  of  perfection.  Thus  the  man  halting 
between  right  principle  and  temptation  to  evil  is  moved 
alternately  by  a  sense  of  the  higher  good  which  righteous- 
ness would  be,  and  by  a  passion  for  the  evil  indulgence 
which,  to  a  part  of  his  nature,  is  so  attractive.      But  The  moral 

c  Tim  struggle  as 

unfortunately  true  knowledge  or  good  and  evil  can  too  in  Rom.  vii. 
easily  be  prevented  by  desires  of  a  low  or  limited  nature 
from  conversion  into  an  adequate  impulse  or  feeling  for 
good.  And  this  is  specially  the  case  when  the  good  is 
future  and  the  inferior  attraction  present  as  well  as 
pleasant. 

At  this  point  we  come  upon  a  very  noteworthy  feature 
of  the  Master's  ethical  teaching.  '  Other  things  being 
equal,'  he  says,  '  desire  arising  from  joy  is  stronger  than  The  fruit- 
desire  arising  from  grief.'  (Prop,  xviii.,  Pt.  iv.)  Now  jj^ess  of 
Spinoza's  own  life  was  too  full  of  persecution,  affliction, 
and — from  a  worldly  point  of  view — disappointment  and 
failure  and  loss  to  allow  any  suspicion  here  of  Epicurean 
illusion.  And  though,  when  we  consider  the  prevalence 
of  suffering  and  tears  and  blood  in  many  epochs  of 
humanity's  re-birth  to  a  higher  life,  the  utterance  appears 
at  first  sight  paradoxical,  we  cannot  ignore  it  as  we  might 

1  This  is  my  interpretation  of  Prop.  xiv.  Much  dispute  might  be 
raised  as  to  the  technicalities.  But  Prop.  viii.  of  this  Part  seems  to 
justify  the  above  as  the  substantial  meaning. 


144 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


An  idea 
dependent 
on  the 
previous 
definition 
of joy. 


the  self-gratulatory  chuckle  of  a  prosperous  gold-grubber. 
Let  us  try,  by  the  aid  of  the  demonstration  appended  to 
the  proposition,  to  make  out  the  meaning,  and  then  let  us 
illustrate  it  if  we  can  from  human  experience.  "We 
must  first,  however,  remind  ourselves  that,  according  to 
Spinoza,  joy  is  the  passage  from  a  less  perfect  to  a  more 
perfect  state,  while  grief  is  the  passage  from  a  more 
perfect  to  a  less  perfect  state.  Now,  desire  is  of  the  very 
essence  of  man,  being  involved  in  the  effort  to  persist  in 
his  essential  being.  So  then  desire  arising  from  joy — 
i.e.  the  passage  from  a  less  perfect  to  a  more  perfect  state 
— must  needs  be  stronger  than  desire  arising  from  sorrow 
— i.e.  the  passage  from  a  more  perfect  to  a  less  perfect 
state.  For,  as  Spinoza  puts  it,  the  force  of  desire  arising 
from  joy  has  two  co-operant  causes,  the  external  object 
of  desire  and  the  inward  exuberance.  But  in  the  case 
of  desire  actuated  by  grief  the  external  object  is 
negative,  being  the  shadow  of  a  loss,  or  the  passage 
from  a  greater  to  a  less  degree  of  perfection,  and  there 
remains  only  the  human  longing  which  cannot  be 
weighed  against  the  exuberance  of  impulse  in  the 
other  case.  But  if  this  appears  to  be  merely  a  formal 
or  technical  plea,  we  have  only  to  turn  to  the  most 
thrilling  records  of  human  experience  to  recognise  how 
remarkably  the  Master's  apparently  most  abstract  state- 
ments do  often  suggest  the  very  life  and  soul  of  man's 
moral  glory. 
1  The  joy  of  Perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  example  is  to  be  found 
i^yourrd  in  tne  outburst  of  resurrection  joy  during  the  rise  of 
strength.'  Christianity.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  nature  of 
the  alleged  historical  events,  with  regard  to  which  our 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  145 

attitude  here  is  one  of  comparative  indifference,1  it  is 
indisputable  that  during  the  first  century  a.d.  a  wave  of 
moral  impulse  rolled  triumphantly  from  Syria  over  Asia 
Minor,  Greece,  Macedonia,  and  Italy.     This  moral  impulse  The  resur- 
tended  toward  human  brotherhood,  equality,  purity,  and  0f  pristiLe 
a  { Kingdom  of  God,'  identical  with  the  Eepublic  of  Man.  ityns  x 
And  the  chief  note  of  this  sacred  impulse  was  one  of 
unutterable  joy,  which  was  embodied  in  prophetic  music 
because  it  could  not  find  expression  in  prosaic  speech. 
1  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?     Shall  Rom.  viii. 

36 

tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine  or  naked- 
ness, or  peril  or  sword  ?  .  .  .  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we 
are  more  than  conquerors  through  him  that  hath  loved 
us.  For  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor 
angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present 
nor  things  to  come,  nor  height  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.'  There  is  abundant 
allusion  here  to  the  self-sacrifice  essentially  incidental 
to  the  Christian  profession.  But  there  is  no  minor  tone 
of  lamentation  or  grief.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  a 
triumphant  realisation  of  the  passage  from  a  lesser  to  a 
greater  perfection;  and  the  rapture  of  concentration  upon 
the  divine  ideal,  the  joy  set  before  the  saint,  is  swollen 
by  the  tide  of  that  progress  from  a  narrower  to  a  larger 
life.  It  would  be  needless  to  multiply  extracts ;  for  the  Confirmed 
above  utterance  recalls  a  score  of  others  in  the  New  Testament™ 

generally 
1  Those  who  regard  this  as  an  illogical  position  would  do  well  to  **"*  by  the 
consult  the  history  of  the  Babi  movement  in  Persia.     Of  the  moral  fathers. ^ 
revival  there  can  be   no  question.      If  this  was  largely  caused   by 
imagination  and  personal  magnetism  in  the  nineteenth  century,   so 
may  it  have  been  in  the  hist  century. 

K 


146 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Refon 


Patriots. 


Testament,  and  many  words  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers, 
which  amply  justify  the  familiar  assertion  that,  despite 
all  the  stress  of  spiritual  conflict,  the  chief  note  of  the 
earliest  Christian  literature  is  one  of  exuberant  joy. 

The  much  inferior  and  in  many  respects  divergent 
movement  of  the  Protestant  Eeformation  might  afford 
other  illustrations.  For  there  is  no  doubt  that  Luther, 
Zwingli,  Calvin,  Knox,  and  their  followers  felt  or  be- 
lieved themselves  to  be  passing  from  a  less  perfect  to 
a  more  perfect  state;  or  that  it  was  the  thrill  of  joy  in 
their  experience  which  gave  them  an  unconquerable 
energy  of  desire.  Or  if  we  turn  from  Church  History  to 
political  and  social  movements,  the  same  note  of  joy  in 
the  passage  from  a  less  perfect  to  a  more  perfect  state 
is  recognisable  even  in  the  grim  energy  of  Cromwell's 
Ironsides,  and  still  more  in  the  apostles  of  popular 
liberty  and  freedom  of  trade.  The  Mazzinis,  the  Gari- 
baldis, the  Cobdens,  and  the  Brights  of  history  have  not 
been  whining,  melancholy  pessimists,  but  men  rejoicing 
in  the  inspired  conviction  that  they  were  raising  not 
themselves  only  but  their  nation,  or  even  mankind,  from 
a  lesser  to  a  larger  perfection.  So  that  of  them  too  it 
might  be  said — giving  to  the  sacred  name  its  largest 
interpretation — '  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength.' 

At  this  point  the  Master  interposes  a  short  anticipa- 
tory excursus  on  the  rules  of  Reason,  which  I  quote  as 
closely  as  possible  : — 


Prop.xviii.,  <  Thus  briefly  I  have  expounded  the  causes  of  human  im- 
Anticipa-  potence  and  inconstancy,  and  the  reasons  why  men  do  not 
tory  excur-  observe  the  dictates  of  reason.    It  now  remains  that  I  should 

sus  on  the 

rules  of  show  what  it  is  that  Reason  prescribes  to  us  ;  also  which 
Reason.  — — — —     ...  ■    . 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  147 

affections  are  consistent  with  the  rules  of  human  reason,  and 
which  are  opposed  to  those  rules.  But  before  I  begin  to 
prove  this  at  full  length  by  our  geometrical  method,  I  desire 
here  to  give  a  short  preliminary  exposition  of  the  dictates  of 
Reason  in  order  that  my  convictions  may  be  the  more  easily 
appreciated  by  every  one. 

'  Since  Reason  demands  nothing  contrary  to  Nature,  she  Reason 
herself  therefore  demands  that  every  one  should  love  himself,  Jhede- 
that  he  should  seek  what  is  useful  to  him — that  is,  what  is  velopment 
really  useful — and  that  he  should  desire  everything  which  self, 
truly  leads  a  man  to  greater  perfection ;  and  generally  that 
every  one  should  strive  as  far  as  he  can  to  preserve  his  own 
essential  being  (suum  esse  conservare).1  This  indeed  is  as 
necessarily  true  as  that  the  whole  is  greater  than  its  part. 
Moreover,  since  virtue  is  nothing  else  than  action  according 
to  the  laws  of  our  own  nature,2  and  no  one  may  strive  to 
preserve  his  own  essential  being  unless  by  the  laws  of  his  own 
proper  nature,  hence  it  follows  (1)  that  the  basis  of  virtue  is 
the  impulse  itself  to  preserve  one's  own  essential  being,  and 
that  happiness  consists  in  a  man's  ability  to  preserve  his  own 
being.  (2)  It  follows  that  virtue  is  to  be  desired  on  its  own 
account,  and  that  nothing  is  conceivably  better  than  virtue 
or  more  useful  to  us,  -with  a  view  to  which  virtue  should 
be  desired.  (3)  Lastly,  it  follows  that  those  who  commit 
suicide  are  impotent  in  mind,  and  that  they  are  utterly 
overcome  by  external  causes  at  discord  with  their  own 
nature.     Moreover,  it  follows  from  Postulate  4,   Part  II.,3  fe^Teredus 

1  The  word  'essential'  is,  of  course,  an  interpolation.  But  I  think  by  the 
it  is  needed  to  give  in  English  the  true  significance  of  Spinoza's  Latin.  worid. 
Of  course  the  ultimate  substance  of  the  man  is  God,  and  for  the  pre- 
servation of  this  there  can  be  no  anxiety.  But  the  essence  of  the 
individual — qua  individual — is  a  finite  modification  of  certain  Attri- 
butes of  that  Substance.  And  'self-preservation'  in  the  man  is  the 
guarding  of  his  spontaneity  within  those  limits  against  undue  external 
influences  which  cause  inadequate  ideas  and  reduce  the  man  to  an 
'inadequate  cause.' 

-  Always  understand  the  finite  Mode  of  God  constituting  our  nature. 

3  'The   human  body  needs  for  its  preservation   very   many  other 
bodies  by  which  it  is,  as  it  were,  continually  remade' 


148  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

that  we  cannot  possibly  succeed  in  putting  ourselves  beyond 
the  need  of  things  external  for  the  preservation  of  our  being, 
nor  can  we  so  live  as  to  have  no  intercourse  with  things  out- 
side us';  and  further,  so  far  as  concerns  our  Mind,  certainly 
our  intellect  would  be  more  imperfect,  if  the  Mind  existed 
alone  and  had  no  understanding  of  anything  beyond  itself.1 
N  There  are  therefore  given  many  external  things  which  are 
The  most     useful  to  us,  and  which  on  that  account  are  to  be  desired, 
serviceable  Out  of  these  none  can  be  conceived   more  excellent  than 
of  the  those  which  entirely  harmonise  with  our  own  nature.     For 

worldare     ^   tw0  individual   things  of  entirely  the  same  nature  are 
those  most  joined  together,  they  form  an  individual  twice  as  powerful 
with  onr°ny  &s  either  when  separate.     To  man,  therefore,  there  is  nothing 
nature.        more  useful  than  man ;  nothing,  I  say,  can  men  desire  more 
Hence         excellent  for  the  preservation  of  their  essential  being,  than 
supreme?  "  ~^at  all  should  so  harmonise  in  all  respects  that  the  Minds  and 
important.  Bodies  of  all  should  make  up,  as  it  were,  one  Mind  and  one 
Body ;  and  that  all  with  one  impulse,  to  the  extent  of  their 
power,  should  strive  to  preserve  their  essential  being,  and 
that  all  with  one  impulse  should  seek,  as  for  themselves,  the 
common  good  of  all.     From  which  considerations  it  follows 
that  men  who  are  ruled  by  Reason,  that  is,  men  who  by  the 
guidance  of  Eeason  seek  their  own  good  (utile),  will  crave 
nothing  for  themselves  that  they  do  not  desire  for  all  other 
men,  and  thus  be  just,  loyal  (Jidos),  and  honourable.' 
The  law  '  Such  are  those  dictates  of  Eeason  which  I  had  purposed 

veiopmVnt  nere  briefly  to  set  forth  before  beginning  to  prove  them  by 
is  not  to  be  the  longer  method.  And  the  object  with  which  I  have  done 
with  pas-  it  is  to  win,  if  possible,  the  attention  of  those  who  regard  as 
the  very  essence  of  impiety,  and  certainly  not  the  foundation 
of  virtue  and  piety,  my  principle  that  every  man  is  bound  to 

1  Contemporary  psychology  would  regard  this  as  an  impossible 
supposition,  since  the  mind's  knowledge  of  itself  is  supposed  to  be 
brought  about  by  contact  with  the  not-self.  But  the  main  issue,  our 
dependence  on  what  is  called  an  external  world  for  fulness  of  life,  is 
not  affected.  For  my  part  I  do  not  believe  that  the  old^sharp  division 
between  self  and  not-self  is  essential. 


sions  of 
selfishness 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  149 

seek  his  own  good.  Now,  therefore,  having  shortly  pointed 
out  that  the  exact  contrary  is  the  case,  I  hasten  to  go  on 
with  my  demonstration  in  the  same  way  by  which  we  have 
hitherto  advanced.' 

The  purport  of  the  above  extract  is  to  remove  preju-  Succeeding 

.  demonstra- 

dice  and  to  facilitate  an  understanding  of  the  proofs  that  tions  negli- 
follow.     But  it  really  does  more ;  at  least  for  the  modern 
reader.     For  if  the  latter's  aim  is  a  basis  for  ethical 
practice,  and  not  a  curious  study  of  seventeenth-century 
dialectics,  these  general  observations  may  save  him  anxiety 
about  the  proofs  of  many  succeeding  propositions,  if  he 
should  find  them  apparently  unconvincing  or  unnecessary. 
He  believes  the  teaching,  or  he  does  not,  and  in  either 
case  the  reason  is  really  independent  of  the   so-called 
'  geometrical  method,'  and  depends  upon  the  attraction  And  pro- 
or  repulsion  of  his  sympathy.     It  would  therefore  be  a  only  occa- 
waste  of  time  laboriously  to  pursue  the  series  of  demon-  be  quoted. 
strations  by   which  the  above  ethical   lessons  are  sus- 
tained.    And  even  the  propositions  need  not  be  quoted 
except  where  they  add  to  or  modify  or  explain  the  concise 
statements  of  the  above  extract. 

For  instance,  in  a  Scholium  to  Prop.  xx.  we  are  re-  ideal  self- 

.«  preserva- 

assured  as  to  the  sort  of  self-preservation  identified  with  tion. 
virtue.  That  it  is  not  the  gross  love  of  life  at  any  cost 
is  made  clear.  For,  notwithstanding  the  previous  con- 
demnation of  suicide,  the  act  of  Seneca  is  approved  on 
the  ground  that  lie  sought '  to  avoid  a  greater  evil  by  a 
less.'  From  which  it  is  clear  that  the  self-preservation 
Spinoza  has  in  view  is  persistence  in  the  divine  idea  of 
the  finite  self.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  the  greatest  energy 
of  self-preservation  is  identified  with  the  highest  virtue. 


150  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

virtue  and  We  also  learn  in  the  succeeding  propositions  what  is 
meant  by  the  words,  '  Virtue  is  nothing  else  than 
action  according  to  the  laws  of  our.  own  nature ' — that 
is,  without  undue  interference  by  external  causes.  Thus 
no  man  is  regarded  as  being  actuated  entirely  by  virtue 
who  is  determined  by  inadequate  ideas  to  do  this  or 
that;  because  the  inadequate  ideas  imply  undue  inter- 
ference of  causes  outside  his  own  nature.  Virtue,  at 
least  in  its  purity,  is  predicated  only  of  the  man  who  is 
impelled  by  what  he  clearly  understands.  Now,  it  is 
undeniable  that  this  language  sounds  like  a  mere  techni- 
cality of  an  arbitrary  system.  But  there  is  sound  sense  at 
the  back  of  it  for  all  that.  Let  us  illustrate  by  an  instance 
which  will  also  show  within  what  limits  we  should  take 
the  assertion  that  a  virtuous  man  is  actuated  '  by  what 
Henry  vm.  he  clearly  understands.'  King  Henry  vm.  was  perhaps 
Thomas  not  wholly  bad ;  but  it  cannot  be  said  that  his  policy  as 
a  ruler  was  guided  by  adequate  ideas,  or  that  he  clearly 
understood  his  own  motives.  Thus  in  securing,  through 
Thomas  Cromwell,  the  passage  of  a  novel  Treason  Act, 
making  traitors  of  all  who  doubted  the  legitimacy  of  his 
second  marriage,  he  was  certainly  impelled  by  causes 
lying  quite  outside  the  divine  idea  of  his  kingship,  as 
defined  by  the  human  expression  of  God1  within  the 

1  '  The  human  mind  is  part  of  the  infinite  intellect  of  God ;  and 
accordingly  when  we  say  that  the  human  mind  perceives  this  or  that, 
we  say  nothing  other  than  that  God,  not  in  so  far  as  He  is  infinite, 
but  in  so  far  as  He  is  expressed  by  the  human  mind,  or  so  far  as  He 
constitutes  the  essence  of  the  human  mind,  has  this  or  that  idea. 
And  when  we  say  that  God  has  this  or  that  idea,  not  only  so  far  as 
He  constitutes  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  but  so  far  as  He  has 
together  with  the  human  mind  the  idea  of  some  other  thing,  then  we 
say  that  the  human  mind  perceives  the  thing  in  part  or  inadequately.' 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  151 

limits  assigned  by  historical  evolution  to  an  English 
king  of  the  time. 

But  now  take  the  case  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  victim  Distinction 
of  that  novel  treason  law.     Of  him  it  is  impossible  to  0f  sir c 
say  with  truth  that  he  saw  far  into  the  future,  or  at  least  More!*8 
understood  the  sort  of  Nemesis  that  the  king  and  Thomas 
Cromwell  were  preparing.     But  this  thing  at  any  rate  he 
understood ;  that  wrong  could  not  be  right ;  and  that  to 
acknowledge  the  legitimacy  of  a  marriage  clean  contrary 
to  all  the  sanctions  associated  by  his  conscience  with  the 
marriage  rite  would  be  a  treason  against  divine  order, 
and  infinitely  more  guilty  than  disobedience  to  any  '  law 
of   a   carnal  commandment.'     It  may  therefore  be  said 
that  Sir  Thomas  More  acted  from  causes  that  he  under- 
stood ;  while  King  Henry  acted  from  '  inadequate  ideas.' 

From  this  we  are  led  to  see  that  good  and  evil  things  Prop,  xxvii. 
are  to  be  judged  by  the  one  test :  do  they  conduce  to 
understanding,  or  do  they  hinder  it  ?  That  is,  do  they  The  highest 
help  toward  that  serene  clarity  of  spiritual  vision  pos- 
sessed by  Sir  Thomas  More  in  his  supreme  hour,  or  do 
they  hinder  it  ?  But  if  this  be  so,  then  the  highest  good 
of  the  mind  must  be  the  knowledge  of  God,  that  is — as  I 
take  it — of  our  relation  as  parts  to  the  Whole,  which 
relation  imposes  upon  us  a  duty  of  unreserved  loyalty.1 

(Prop,  xi.,  Pt.  II.,  Coroll.)  Which  I  apply  to  Henry  viii.  thus.  His 
attempts  to  make  Parliament  merely  the  registering  court  of  a  despotic 
will  were  an  essential  element  in  the  forces  preparing  the  revolution 
of  the  following  century.  They  were  in  that  sense  part  of  the  divine 
order  of  the  world.  This  answers  to  Spinoza's  'some  other  tiling' 
which  was  in  the  mind  of  God,  but  not  in  the  mind  of  Henry.  The 
idea  of  the  latter  therefore  was  •  inadequate.' 

1  '  The  highest  good  of  the  Mind  is  the  knowledge  of  God  ;  and  the 
supreme  virtue  of  the  Mind  is  to  know  God.' — Prop,  xxviii.,  Part  iv. 


152  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Having  reached  this  lofty  point  of  view,  we  are  made 
Practical  to  descend  to  some  practical  details,  and  to  consider  what 
rules  of  life  may  help  toward  that  highest  good.  Thus 
so  far  as  anything  harmonises  with  our  nature — always 
Props.  understand  our  divine  nature — it  is  good.  Thus,  for 
instance,  the  majesty  or  the  sweet  insinuations  of  natural 
scenery,  the  alluring  mysteries  of  organic  life,  and  the 
impressive  march  of  human  history,  are  all  in  harmony 
with  our  nature,  and  of  necessity  good,  in  the  sense 
already  given,  that  is,  they  conduce  to  our  understanding 
of  our  place  in  the  world.  And  generally  everything  is 
good  so  far  as  it  harmonises x  with  our  nature  understood 
as  above. 

It  follows  that,  apart  from  the  imperfections  caused  by 

obedience  to  passion  rather  than  reason,  our  fellow-men 

Whatman    are,  in  a  higher  degree  than  anything  else  in  Natura 

needs  most 

is  man.  Naturctta,  good  for  us  and  helpful  to  us.  Because,  of 
course,  they  have  most  points  of  harmony  with  our 
individual  humanity.  But  the  drawbacks  to  so  cheerful 
a  view  are  many.     For  men  are  very  generally  subject  to 

Prop.xxxii.,  passion,  that  is,  to  moral  impotence ;  and  as  Spinoza  will 

Schol.  i-i  • 

nave  it,  mere  agreement  in  negations  cannot  constitute 
harmony  of  nature.  Or,  to  put  it  in  more  vulgar  fashion, 
two  boys  who  are  equally  indolent,  selfish,  and  incapable 
of  moral  aspiration,  are  the  worst  possible  companions 

Prop.  for   each   other.     Again,  men   buffeted  by  passions  are 

constantly  brought  into  conflict  one  with   another,  and 

And  man     instead  of  helping,  devour  one  another.     In  fine,  it  is 

finds  man  -  ' 

when  each    only  so  iar  as  men  are  governed  by  reason  that  there  can 

is  governed 

1  That  is,  as  I  understand,  so  far  as  it  does  not  oppose,  but  promotes, 
the  evolution  of  the  individual  ideal. 


.    THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  153 

be  a  real  harmony  of  nature  between  them  and  mutual 
help  toward  the  ideal  life.  And  though,  when  put  in 
that  way,  this  sounds  too  philosophical  for  'human 
nature's  daily  food/  yet  if  for  'reason'  we  substitute 
loyalty  to  the  best  we  know,  with  the  desire  to  know 
more,  together  with  a  temper  of  sincerity  and  honour, 
this  is  very  much  what  Spinoza  means  by  '  reason.'  Practical 
Thus  interpreted,  the  above  doctrine  is  plain  common-  twoc?  ° 
sense.  trine' 

Men  governed   by  reason   in  this   sense  will   always  R°ot  of  the 

.  enthusiasm 

desire  to  be  useful  to  others  and  to  share  with  them  a  of  human- 
ity, 
form  of  wealth  that  is  increased  and  not  lessened  by 

giving.     Also  this  desire  will  always  be  the  greater  in 

proportion  to  the  knowledge  of  God  attained  by  such 

men,  that  is,  their  knowledge  of  their  relation  as  parts  to 

the  infinite  Whole.     But  here  again  it  may  be  well  to 

quote  as  nearly  as  possible  the  Master's  own  words  : — 

'  Whosoever,  actuated  merely  by  feeling,  strives  that  others  Prop, 
should  love  what  he  loves,  and  that  others  should   live  in  ^0"! 
accordance  with  his  notions,  acts  solely  from  impulse,  and  is  Benevo- 
on  that  account  hateful,  especially  to  those  who  prefer  other  impulse 
things,  and  who  on  that  very  account  also  desire,  and  by  the  inferior  to 
same  impulse  strive  that  others  should  on  the  contrary  live  volence  of 
according  to  their  notions.     Moreover,  since  the  highest  good  Reason- 
which  men  desire  by  force   of   feeling   is  often   of   such  a 
nature  that  only  one  person  may  possess  it,  hence  it  follows 
that  they  who  love  it  are  not  inwardly  consistent,  and  while 
they  glory  in  reciting  the  praises  of  the  thing  they  love,  are 
alarmed  lest  they  should  be  believed.1     But  he  who  strives 
to  lead  others  by  reason  does  not  act  from  impulse  but  from 

1  What  is  really  meant  seems  to  be  '  lest  they  should  be  so  far 
believed  that  others  should  be  impelled  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
object  so  praised.' 


154 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Social 
loyalty. 


c  Natural ' 
and  civic 
humanity 
in  relation 
to  the 
moral  law. 


human  sympathy  and  kindness,  and  inwardly1  he  is  perfectly 
at  one  with  himself.  Moreover,  I  regard  as  Religion  every 
desire  and  action  of  which  we  are  ourselves  the  cause  through 
having  the  idea  or  the  knowledge  of  God.2  But  Piety  I  call 
that  desire  of  well-doing  wThich  is  begotten  in  us  by  the  life 
according  to  Reason.  The  desire,  again,  by  which  every  man 
living  according  to  Reason  is  possessed  to  unite  others  to 
himself  in  friendship  I  call  honour ' — (social  loyalty) — '  and 
I  call  that  honourable  which  men,  living  according  to  Reason, 
praise ;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  base  which  is  inconsistent 
with  the  bonds  of  amity.  .  .  .  Again,  the  difference  between 
real  virtue  and  impotence  is  easily  gathered  from  the  above. 
For  plainly  real  virtue  is  nothing  else  than  life  strictly 
according  to  reason.  And  thus  impotence  consists  in  this 
alone,  that  a  man  suffers  himself  to  be  led  by  things  outside 
himself,  and  is  determined  by  them  to  do,  not  what  is 
required  by  his  own  proper  nature  regarded  in  itself  alone, 
but  (what  is  required)  by  the  current  order  (communis  con- 
stitutio)  of  outward  things.' 

In  a  succeeding  Scholium  the  Master  draws  a  note- 
worthy distinction  between  the  natural  and  the  civic — 
or,  if  we  like  the  word  better — the  social  state  of  man. 
Thus  he  denies  that  man  in  his  natural  state  is  bound  by 
any  law  to  consider  anything  other  than  his  own  con- 
venience and  pleasure.     But  if  we  are  startled  by  such 

1  Mente — as  in  the  preceding  sentence. 

2  Literally,  '  whatever  we  desire  and  do  of  which  we  are  the  cause 
so  far  as  we  have  the  idea  of  God,  or  so  far  as  we  have  the  knowledge 
of  God,  I  refer  to  Religion.'  I  submit,  however,  that  if  the  writer  had 
been  English,  and  written  in  his  own  tongue,  the  above  is  what  he 
would  have  said.  But,  as  premised  in  the  first  sentences  of  this  para- 
phrase, Spinoza  is  made  needlessly  obscure  by  our  forgetfulness  of  his 
Pantheism.  Thus,  in  the  present  case,  he  does  not  in  the  least  suggest 
that  the  Jewish  Jahweh,  or  personal  God,  must  be  thought  of  at 
every  moment  in  order  to  make  our  lives  religious,  but  rather  that 
everything  is  so,  which  we  desire  and  do  consistently  with  the  sense 
of  our  being  infinitesimal  parts  of  one  perfect  Whole. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  155 

a  doctrine,  let  us  ask  ourselves  whether  lions  and  tigers 
and  wolves  are  bound,  so  far  as  their  conscious  impulses 
are  concerned,  by  any  other  law  than  that  of  appetite  ? 
Surely  no  one  will  pretend  it  for  a  moment.  And  if  we  pr0p. 
try  to  make  a  moral  difference  between  such  creatures  schol.  2. 
and  '  natural '  man,  the  effort  is  only  an  indication  that 
we  are  still  influenced  by  obsolete  traditions  of  man's 
miraculous  origin.  But  on  the  theory  of  evolution  the 
Master  is  obviously  right.  There  was  a  time  when,  so 
far  as  conscious  impulse1  was  concerned,  men  were  'a 
law  unto  themselves '  just  as  much  as  lions  and  tigers 
are. 

Now  such  a  stage  of  human  evolution  had  obviously 
less  perfection,  that  is,  less  fulness  of  being,  than  any 
stage  attained  by  man  when  awakened  to  a  sense  of  God, 
that  is,  a  consciousness  of  being  part  of  a  Whole,  which  The  God- 
consciousness,  being  finite,  is  necessarily  subject  to  regu-  ness  ami " 
lations  co-ordinating  it  with  other  parts.     '  In  order  that  moral  law' 
men  may  live  harmoniously  and  be  helpful  to  each  other/ 
says  the  Master, '  it  is  necessary  that  they  should  yield 
their  natural  right  and  mutually  give  security  that  they 
will  do  nothing  which  would  injure  their   neighbour.'2 

1  This  limitation  is  intended  to  prevent  possible  misunderstanding. 
Because,  of  course,  if  by  '  law '  we  mean  regular  and  inevitable  suc- 
cession, 'natural  man'  in  all  his  impulses  and  in  every  other  respect 
was  as  much  subject  to  law  as  trees  and  stones  and  streams. 

-  I  do  not  read  this  as  implying  any  anticipation  of  the  eighteenth- 
century  myth  of  the  contrat  social.  The  passage  only  describes  the 
practical  effect  of  natural  man's  evolution  into  the  social  state.  Nor 
do  I  see  the  slightest  ground  for  the  inference  sometimes  drawn  that 
Spinoza  regarded  the  moral  law  as  only  '  positive,'  or  artificial,  and 
dependent  on  human  authority.  Not  only  the  general  tenour  of  his 
writings,  but  his  life,  contradicts  this.  Nor  does  the  passage  follow- 
ing, in  which  he  docs  discuss  positive  law,  justify  such  a  view  of  his 


156 


ETHICS  OF  SriNOZA 


To  attain  this,  they  must  have  recourse  to  the  principle 
already  laid  down  that  no  affection  or  impulse  can  be 
controlled  except  by  an  affection  or  impulse  both  stronger 
than  and  contrary  to  the  affection  to  be  controlled ;  and 
that  in  general  every  one  will  abstain  from  hurting 
another  if  the  injury  will  entail  a  greater  hurt  to  him- 
self. 


Society's 
right  to 
self-preser- 
vation 

Prop. 

xxxvii. , 
Schol.  2. 


involves 
enforce- 
ment of  re- 
gulations, 


of  which 
the  infrac- 
tion is 
crime. 


'  By  this  law,  then,  Society  can  be  bound  together  if  only  it 
can  assert  for  itself  the  right  which  every  individual  has,  of 
defending  himself,  and  make  itself  the  judge  of  good  and 
evil.  Provided  also  that  Society  must  have  the  power  of 
ordaining  the  community's  order  of  living,  and  the  power  of 
legislation,  and  of  sanctioning  its  laws  not  merely  by  reason, 
which  cannot  compel  affections  (or  impulses),  but  by  threats. 
Now  this  Society,  held  together  by  laws  and  by  the  power  of 
self-preservation,  is  called  a  State  (Civitas),  and  those  who 
are  defended  by  its  jurisdiction  are  called  Citizens.  From  all 
this  we  readily  gather  that  in  a  condition  of  nature  there  is 
nothing  declared  to  be  good  or  evil  by  the  consent  of  all. 
Because  every  one,  in  a  condition  of  nature,  considers  only 
his  own  convenience,  and  according  to  his  own  fancy,  having 
regard  solely  to  the  standard  of  his  own  convenience,  deter- 
mines what  is  good  or  what  is  evil ;  nor  is  he  bound  by  any 
law  to  obey  any  one  but  himself  alone.  Hence,  in  a  con- 
dition of  nature,  crime  (peccahm)  cannot  be  conceived ;  but 


teaching ;  for  he  is  there  discussing  the  political  definition  of  mutual 
rights,  and  what  is  good  for  the  State  as  a  whole,  not  good  in  the 
sense  of  that  Vdiich  helps  each  man  to  realise  his  ideal  self.  It  is  to 
this  aspect  of  higher  rffcmhood  as  res  acta  existens  that  eternal 
morality  appertains — eternal  in  the  sense  that  whenever  and  wherever 
the  same  conditions  occur,  the  same  rule  holds  good.  Spinoza's  view 
seems  to  have  been  that,  when  the  sense  of  being  parts  of  a  whole 
began  to  dawn,  the  need  of  living  by  reason  began  to  be  felt.  And 
Reason  means  the  realisation — which  may  take  many  forms  from 
animism  k)  pantheism — that  man  is  a  '  partaker  of  the  divine  nature,' 
and  subject  to  the  eternal  necessities  of  God's  life.     See  Part  v. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  1,57 

only  in  the  civic  state  in  which,  while  good  and  evil  are 
determined  by  the  general  voice,  every  one  is  held  bound  to 
obey  the  State.  Crime,  therefore,  is  nothing  other  than 
disobedience,  which  accordingly  is  punished  by  State  right 
only  •  and,  on  the  other  hand,  obedience  is  counted  as  merit 
in  a  citizen  because,  on  account  of  this  very  thing,  he  is 
reckoned  worthy  to  enjoy  the  advantages  of  the  State. 
Farther,  in  a  condition  of  nature,  no  one  by  the  general  voice  Property 
is  possessor  of  any  single  thing,  nor  does  anything  occur  in  Institution 
nature  which  can  be  said  to  belong  to  this  man  and  not  to  of  nature, 
that ;  but  all  things  belong  to  all.  It  follows  that,  in  a  con- 
dition of  nature,  there  can  be  no  disposition  {voluntas)  to 
render  to  each  his  own,  nor  yet  to  take  away  from  any  man 
what  is  his.  In  a  word,  no  action  can  be  called  just  or  unjust 
in  a  condition  of  nature,  but  only  in  the  civic  State  where 
the  general  voice  determines  what  belongs  to  this  man  or  to 
that.  From  all  which  it  results  that  justice  and  injustice, 
crime  and  desert,  are  notions  from  without,1  and  not  attri- 
butes which  manifest  the  nature  of  the  mind/ 

Passing  over  two  propositions  about  the  conservation 
of  a  balance  of  motion  and  rest  in  the  body,  propositions 
essential  to  the  intellectual  completeness  of  the  system 
but  not  to  the  practical  lessons  I  am  trying  to  emphasise, 
I  may  summarise  a  number  of  succeeding  propositions  as 
follows : — 

All  things  are  useful  which  make  for  social  peace :  Aphorisms, 
whatever  has  the  contrary  effect  is  evil. 

Joy,  in  its  direct  operation,  is  not  evil  but  good :  Grief,  tfi. 
on  the  other  hand,  in  its  direct  operation,  is  evil. 

1  Notiones  extrinsecas — i.e.  generated  by  outward  relations.  The 
practical  meaning  is  that  'morals'  are  evolved  only  out  of  special 
relations  between  special  Modes  of  the  divine  Attributes — e.g.  men. 
But  perhaps  the  '  condition  of  nature,'  as  above,  was  prehuman  rather 
than  human. 


158 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


xlii. 
xliii. 

xliv. 


Cheerfulness  cannot  be  in  excess ;  but  it  is  always 
good.     On  the  other  hand,  Melancholy  is  always  evil. 

Pleasurable  excitement  may  run  to  excess  and  be  evil. 
Pain  may  be  good  to  the  same  extent  as  pleasurable 
excitement  or  joy  may  be  evil. 

Love  and  sensual  passion  are  subject  to  excess. 

The  Scholium  here  is  worth  quoting. 


Scholium. 


The  mad- 
ness  of 
violent 
passions. 


Evil  of 
Hatred. 


xlv. 


xlvii. 


1  The  affections  (or  passions)  by  which  we  are  daily  buffeted 
have  reference  generally  to  some  single  part  of  the  body 
which  part  is  more  affected  than  any  of  the  rest.  And 
accordingly  the  affections  have  an  extreme  excess  and  so  hold 
the  mind  fixed  upon  one  sole  object  that  it  is  unable  to  think 
of  others.  And  although  men  are  exposed  to  many  affections 
(or  passions),  and  accordingly  very  few  are  found  who  are 
always  buffeted  by  one  and  the  same  affection,  yet  there  are 
not  wanting  those  to  whom  the  same  one  affection  obstinately 
adheres.  For  we  sometimes  see  men  so  much  affected  by  one 
object  that  even  if  it  is  not  present  they  fancy  that  they  have 
it  at  hand.  If  such  a  thing  befalls  a  man  who  is  not  asleep, 
we  say  that  he  is  delirious  or  mad.  And  not  less  are  they 
thought  mad  who  burn  with  Love,  and  who  day  and  night 
dream  of  a  mistress,  or  a  paramour  \  for  they  usually  excite 
laughter.  But  when  the  miser  thinks  of  nothing  else  than 
gain  or  treasures,  and  the  ambitious  man  of  glory,  and  so  on, 
these  men  are  not  believed  to  be  mad ;  they  are  rather  offen- 
sive and  considered  deserving  of  hatred.  But  in  very  deed 
Avarice,  Ambition,  Lust,  and  such  like  are  a  sort  of  madness, 
although  they  are  not  reckoned  as  disease.' 

Hatred  can  never  be  good — that  is,  hatred  towards 
men.  He  who  lives  by  the  guidance  of  reason  endeavours 
as  much  as  possible  to  counteract  by  love  or  generosity 
hatred,  anger,  and  contempt  toward  himself. 

Affections  of  Hope  and  Fear  cannot  in  themselves  be 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  159 

good,  but  only  so  far  as  they  serve  to  restrain  the  Hope  and 
excesses  of  Joy.  '  So  far  as  we  strive  to  live  by  the  guid-  seded  by 
ance  of  Reason,  to  that  extent  we  shall  depend  less  on 
Hope,  and  free  ourselves  from  Fear,  while  at  the  same 
time  we  endeavour  as  far  as  possible  to  be  lords  of  fortune 
{fortunce  imperare)  and  to  direct  our  own  actions  by  the 
certain  counsel  of  Reason.'  4 

The  affections  of  Self-conceit   and  of   Contempt   are  xlviii. 
always  evil. 

Pity 1  is  out  of  place  in  a  man  whose  life  is  guided  by  l. 
Reason,  and  in  itself  is  evil  and  useless. 

The  demonstration  goes  far  to  explain  -the  paradox,  and  Paradox 

°  if  tf  on  Pity. 

runs  thus : — 

'  Pity  is  sorrow  and  therefore  in  itself  evil.  But 
the  good  which  follows  from  pity,  namely,  that  we  en- 
deavour to  free  from  his  misery  the  man  whom  we  pity, 
is  what  we  desire  through  the  dictate  of  Reason  alone  to 
effect.  Nor  can  we  achieve  anything  that  we  know  clearly 
to  be  good  unless  we  do  it  by  the  dictate  of  Reason  alone. 
Therefore  Pity  in  a  man  who  lives  by  the  guidance  of 
Reason,  is  evil  in  itself  and  useless.' 

That  is,  help  to  the  suffering  should  be  prompted  by 
reason  and  not  by  passion.2  The  Scholium  is  worth 
giving  at  length  : — 

1  He   who  fully  knows   that  all   things   follow  from   the  Schol. 
necessity  of  the  divine  nature,  and  are  carried  on  according 

1  Commiseratio.  As  said  before,  the  attempt  to  render  Spinoza's 
Latin  word  for  any  Affection  always  by  the  same  English  word  would 
cause  confusion  on  account  of  differences  of  connotation  in  different 
passages.  , 

2  Morbid  sentiment  may  condemn  such  teaching.  But  if  it  were 
followed  for  ten  years  in  our  land,  idle  vagrancy  and  social  malinger- 
ing would  be  abolished. 


160  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

to  the  eternal  laws  and  rules  of  Nature,  will  surely  find 
nothing  that  is  worthy  of  Hatred,  Laughter,  or  Contempt. 
Nor  will  he  pity  any  one ;  but  so  far  as  human  virtue  avails 
he  will  endeavour,  as  the  saying  is,  to  do  good  and  rejoice.1 
To  this  we  may  add  that  he  who  is  easily  touched  by  the 
sentiment  of  pity  and  is  moved  by  the  misery  or  tears  of 
another,  often  does  something  for  which  he  is  afterwards 
sorry.  This  is  partly  because  we  do  not  know  clearly 
that  anything  done  from  sentiment  is  good,  and  partly 
because  we  do  know  clearly  that  we  are  easily  deceived  by 
fraudulent  tears.  Of  course,  in  the  above  remarks,  I  have  in 
view  the  man  who  lives  by  the  guidance  of  reason.  For  he 
who  is  not  moved  either  by  Eeason  or  by  Pity  to  help  others, 
such  a  creature  is  rightly  called  inhuman  ;  for  he  seems  to 
be  alien  to  manhood.' 

Gratitude.  '  Favour '  (in  the  sense  of  special  love  to  a  man  who 
has  done  good  to  another)  '  is  not  contrary  to  reason,  but 
is  in  harmony  with  it,  and  may  arise  from  it.' 

Schoi.  'Indignation'  (in  the  sense  of  hatred  to  a  man  who  has 

Indignation 

illegitimate,  done  harm  to  another)  'is  essentially  evil.  But  mark  that 
when  the  sovereign  power,  in  virtue  of  the  desire  by 
which  it  is  actuated  to  defend  the  peace,  punishes  a 
citizen  who  has  done  harm  to  another,  I  do  not  say  that 
the  sovereign  power  shows  indignation  ;  because  it  is  not 
by  hatred  impelled  .to  the  destruction  of  the  citizen,  but 
it  punishes  him  at  the  instigation  of  piety.' 

Humility.  Humility  is  not  a  virtue ;  that  is,  it  does  not  spring 
from  Eeason. 

Penitence.  Penitence  is  not  a  virtue ;  that  is,  it  does  not  spring 
from  Eeason. 

These    paradoxical    utterances    are    necessitated     by 
Spinoza's  fundamental  principle  that  a  man's  essence  is 

1  '  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good.' — Ps.  xxxvii.  3. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  161 

his  power,  not  his  impotence.  Therefore  anything  which 
concentrates  a  man's  attention  on  his  impotence  is  bad ; 
that  is,  it  hinders  the  ideal  self.  There  is  more  in  this 
than  would  at  first  sight  appear.  But  it  is  admittedly 
dangerous  and  is  guarded  by  the  following  Scholium. 

1  Since  men  seldom  live  under   the   direction  of  Eeason, 
these  two  affections,  namely,  Humility  and  Penitence,  and,  in  Scholium 
addition  to  these,  Hope  and  Fear,  do  more  good  than  harm ;  fty^S? 
and  accordingly,  since  error  is  inevitable,  it  is  better  to  err  tence> 
in  that  direction.     For  if  men  impotent  in  mind  (i.e.  morally  Fear?'  an 
impotent)  should  all  be  as  presumptuous  1  as  they  are  weak, 
they  would  scruple  at  nothing.     And  if  they  had  nothing  to 
fear,  by  what  bounds  could  they  be  held  together  and  kept 
in  order  ?     The  mob  terrifies  when  it  does  not  fear.     And  so 
there  is  no  wonder  that  the  Prophets  who  had  regard  to  the 
advantage  of  all,  and  not  of  a  few,  should  give  such  high 
praise  to  Humility,  Penitence,  and  Eeverence.     And  indeed 
those  who  are  susceptible  to  these  affections  can  be  led  much 
more  easily  than  others  towards  a  life  under  the  guidance  of 
Reason,  that  is,  toward  freedom,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the 
life  of  the  blessed.' 

Either  excessive  pride  or  excessive   self-depreciation  Pride, 
indicates  both  utter  ignorance  of  one's  self  and  extreme  lv'  aud  lv1' 
impotence  of  mind. 

Hence  it  follows  that  the  proud  and  the  despondent 
are  specially  susceptible  to  affections  (or  passions). 

The  proud   man   loves  the  company  of   parasites  or  lvii. 
flatterers,  but  that  of  the  noble-minded  he  hates. 

Here  follows  a  Scholium  : — 

1  It  would  be  too  long  a  task  to  reckon  all  the  evils  of  Schol. 
Pride ;  since  the  Proud  are  susceptible  to  all  passions  and  to  Pride  sus- 
none  less  than  those  of  Love  and  Pity.     But  here  it  must  by  H^* 
no  means  be  forgotten  that  any  man  is   called  proud  who  passions. 
1  >So  I  take  ceque  omnes  mqaerbirent. 


162 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


thinks  less  of  others  than  they  deserve,  and  therefore  with 
The  essence  this  understanding  Pride  is  to  be  defined  as  Joy  arising  from 
a  man's  false  notion  that  he  is  superior  to  the  rest  of  men. 
And  Self-depreciation  (pusillanimity)  in  contrariety  to  this 


is  joy  aris- 
ing from  a 
false  idea 
of  superi- 
ority. 


Pride  would  be  grief  arising  from  a  man's  false  notion  that 


The  oppo- 


Pride  akin 
to  madness. 

Pride  and 
pusillanim- 
ity as 
extremes 
meet. 


he  is  inferior  to  the  rest  of  mankind.  But  this  being  granted, 
we  readily  conceive  that  the  proud  man  is  necessarily  envious, 
"te.of  pusil-  an(j  ^hat  he  regards  with  the  utmost  hatred  those  who  are 
most  praised  on  account  of  their  virtues.  Nor  can  his  hatred 
of  them  be  easily  overcome  by  Love  or  kindliness.  And  he 
takes  pleasure  only  in  the  company  of  those  who  humour  his 
impotence  of  mind,  and  from  a  fool  turn  him  into  a  madman. 
1  Now  although  Self-depreciation  (pusillanimity)  is  contrary 
to  Pride,  yet  the  Despondent  (pusillanimous)  is  next  neighbour 
to  the  proud.  For  since  his  Grief  arises  from  measuring  his 
own  impotence  by  the  power  or  virtue  of  other  men,  that 
Grief  will  therefore  be  lightened,  or  he  will  rejoice,  if  his 
fancy  should  be  engaged  in  the  contemplation  of  other 
people's  vices.  Hence  the  proverb,  "  The  consolation  of  the 
miserable  is  to  have  partners  in  affliction."  And  on  the  other 
hand  he  will  be  all  the  more  sad  in  proportion  as  he  believes 
himself  debased  below  the  rest  of  men.  Whence  it  follows 
that  none  are  so  prone  to  envy  as  the  despondent  (pusillani- 
mous) j  and  also  that  such  people  for  the  most  part  watch 
the  actions  of  mankind  more  with  a  view  to  fault-finding 
than  to  reformation ;  so  that  at  length  they  praise  self- 
depreciation  for  its  own  sake  and  glory  in  it,  but  so  that 
they  may  still  seem  to  be  despondent.  Such  consequences 
follow  from  this  mental  affection  as  inevitably  as  it  follows . 
from  the  nature  of  a  triangle  that  its  three  angles  are  equal 
to  two  right  angles ;  and  I  have  already  said  that  I  call  these 
and  similar  mental  affections  bad  (only)  so  far  as  I  confine 
my  attention  to  the  service  of  man  alone.  But  Nature's 
laws  are  concerned  with  the  general  order  of  Nature  of 
which  Man  is  a  part — a  remark  I  make  in  passing,  lest  any 
one  should  suppose  that  I  have  desired  here  to  recount  the 
wicked   and   preposterous   deeds   of   men,  whereas   I   have 


The  incon 
venience 
caused  to 
mankind 
by  such 
passions 
does  not 
imply  dis- 
order in 
Nature. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  163 

sought  only  to  set  forth  the  nature  and  properties  of  things 
(as  they  are).  For  as  I  have  said  in  the  Preface  to  the 
Third  Part,  I  look  on  the  mental  affections  of  man  and  their 
properties  just  as  I  look  on  the  rest  of  natural  phenomena. 
And  indeed  if  the  mental  affections  of  man  do  not  manifest 
human  power,  at  least  they  set  forth  that  of  Nature  and  also 
her  art,  not  less  than  many  other  things  at  which  we  wonder, 
and  by  the  contemplation  of  which  we  are  delighted.  But  I 
hasten  on  to  note  concerning  the  affections  whatever  is 
productive  of  profit  or  loss  to  man.' 

Glorying  (i.e.  joy  in  the  thought  of  some  action  of  ours  Glory, 
which  we  suppose  others  to  praise)  is  not  repugnant  to 
Reason  and  may  even  spring  from  Pieason. 

Here  it  seemed   necessary  to   the   Master  to  exclude  And  vain- 

glory. 

{ vainglory.'     And  this  he   does  in   a  Scholium  which  Fviii.,' 
explains  that  the  latter  depends  upon  the  shifting  opinion 
of  the  mob.     The  implication  is  that  true  glory  can  be 
sustained  only  by  the  praise  of  those  who  are  steadfastly 
guided  by  Eeason. 

'  As  to  Shame,  all  that  is  needed  may  be  gathered  from  Shame, 
what  we  have  said  about  Pity  and  Penitence.  This  only  I 
add ;  that  just  like  Compassion,  Shame,  though  it  be  not  a 
virtue,  is  yet  good  in  so  far  as  it  shows  that  the  man  affected 
by  Shame  has  in  him  a  desire  for  an  honourable  life,  even  as 
pain,  so  far  as  it  shows  that  the  injured  part  is  not  mortified, 
is  also  good.  Thus,  even  though  a  man  ashamed  of  some 
deed  is  of  course  subject  to  Grief,  yet  he  has  more  of 
perfection  than  the  shameless  one  who  has  no  desire  for  an 
honourable  life. 

1  This  is  all  that  I  designed  to  say  about  the  mental 
affections  of  Joy  and  Grief.  .  As  to  Desires,  they  are  good 
or  evil" according  as  they  spring  from  good  or  evil  affections. 
But  in  truth,  all  desires,  so  far  as  they  are  begotten  in  us  by 
affections  which  are  passions,  are  blind,  nor  would  they  be 


164  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

in  any  way  needed  if  men  could  easily  be  led  to  live  under 
the  sole  direction  of  Reason.  And  this  I  will  now  briefly 
show.' 

Reason  We  were  taught  at  an  earlier  portion  of  this  section 

can  supply  . 

the  place  *    of  the  Ethics  that  knowledge,  if  it  is  to  have  practical 

passion.      power,  must  put  on  the  nature  of  feeling,  which  of  course 

Prop.  lix.    is  a  form  of  passion  in  its  technical  sense.     We  now 

have  the  converse  lesson  that  reason  may  be  as  effectual 

as  feeling.     But  this  does   not   contradict  the  previous 

passage ;  for  more  knowledge  of  this  or  that  is  not  to  be 

confounded  with  Eeason. 

Actions  are      <  To  all  actions  to  which  we  are  determined  by  a  mental 

in  them-  . 

selves  in-     affection,  which  is  a  passion,  we  may  also  be  determined 

different. 

by  Eeason  without  passion.'  The  idea  is  that  bodily 
actions  are  all  in  themselves  indifferent,  that  is,  neither 
good  nor  evil.  And  they  only  become  good  or  evil 
according  as  they  make  for  or  against  the  development 
Moral         0f  the  ideal  self.     Thus  talking,  eating,  drinking,  and,  to 

quality  °  °  ° 

depends  on  take  Spinoza's  illustration,  the  act  of  striking,  are  colour- 
spiritual  m  m 
relations,     less  except  in  their  relation  to  the  ideal  self.     If  they 

serve  that,  they  are  good ;  if  not,  they  are  bad.     Now  to 

that  is,  on   act  according  to  Eeason  is  simply  to  do  those  things 

Reason. 

which  follow  from  the  inward  necessity  of  our  own 
nature  considered  in  itself — that  is,  apart  from  the 
powers  of  the  external  world  which  deflect  it  from  its 
true  course.  And  such  of  us  as  consider  ourselves — in 
spirit,  though  not  always  in  the  letter — to  be  Spinoza's 
disciples  make  bold  to  say  that  if  any  man  could  emulate 
the  serene  devotion  of  the  Master  who,  from  the  time  of 
his  enlightenment,  sought  only  to  realise  the  divine 
thought  identifiable  with  the  man  Spinoza,  he  would  find 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAX  165 

Reason  as  thus  conceived  to  be  to  him  c  wisdom  and 
righteousness,  and  sanctification  and  redemption.' 

1  Desire  springing  from  Joy  or  Grief  such  as  affects  vices  of 
only  one  or  several,  but  not  all  parts  of  the  body,  has  no  desire!  °C 
proper  bearing 1  on  the  good  of  the  whole  man.' 

We  must  remember  that  in  Spinoza's  system  the  body 
is  the  man  in  extension,  and  the  mind  the  man  in  thought. 
They  are  therefore  the  same  thing  in  two  different  aspects. 
For  practical  illustrations  of  the  above  proposition  we 
may  refer  to  drunkenness,  sensual  vices,  and  gambling, 
which  gratify  a  part  but  do  not  serve  the  whole  of  the  man. 

*  Desire  springing  from  Eeason  is  incapable  of  excess '  i*i. 

r       °     &  r  Desires  of 

— that  is,  it  is  always  an  impulse  toward  the  realisation  Reason  are 

incapable 
Of  OUr  best  Self.  of  excess. 

So   far   as   the  Mind   conceives   anything   under  the  lxii. 
direction  of  Eeason,  it  is  equally  affected  thereby  whether  unaffected 
the  idea  be  of  a  future  thing  or  a  past  or  present. 

We  may  remember  that  on  the  natural  man  things 
immediate  have  much  more  influence  than  things  remote, 
notwithstanding  that  the  power  of  the  latter  over  him  is 
in  the  order  of  Nature  equally  certain.  We  may  also 
remind  ourselves  of  the  fine  utterance  of  Kepler  when 
under  the  direction  of  reason  he  published  his  laws  of 
planetary  motion. 

1  The  lot  is  cast.    I  have  written  my  book.     It  will  be  read  ;  instance  of 
whether  in  the  present  age  or  by  posterity  matters  little.  KcPler- 
It  can  wait  for  its  readers.     Has  not  God  waited  six  thousand 
years  for  one  to  contemplate  his  works  ? '  2 

1  Rationem  utilitatia  totiua  hominia  non  hdbet.     But   the  practical 

sense  is  as  above. 

2  So.  the  true  laws  of  planetary  motion.  The  reference,  of  course, 
is  to  the  old  chronology,  which  dated  creation  about  six  thousand  years 
back. 


166  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

lxiii.  He  who  is  led  by  fear  and  does  what  is  good  in  order  to 

avoid  trouble  (malum)  is  not  led  by  reason. 

Penalties         The  suggestion  is  that  fear  of  penalty  cannot  sustain 

cannot  °°  r  J 

inspire        noble  conduct  as  reason  can.     For  by  the  desire  spring- 
ness.  ing  from  reason  we  pursue  good  directly,  and  only  as 

an  incidental  consequence  escape  evil.  The  difference 
between  the  positive  pursuit  of  good  and  the  negative 
avoidance  of  evil  is  not  inaptly  illustrated  by  the  example 
of  a  sick  and  a  healthy  man.  'The  sick  man  through 
fear  of  death  eats  what  he  dislikes ;  the  healthy  man 
takes  a  pleasure  in  his  food,  and  so  enjoys  life  more  than 
if  he  feared  death  and  made  it  his  chief  aim 1  to  avoid 

it; 

ixiv.  The  knowledge  of  evil  is  inadequate  knowledge ;  hence  it 

knowledge  follows  that  if  the  human  mind  has  none  but  adequate  ideas, 

excludes      it  would  form  no  notion  of  evil, 
evil. 

In  other  words,  if  our  consciousness  could  expand  so  as 
to  fill  the  infinite  Universe — of  course  an  absurd  supposi- 
tion— there  would  be  no  shadow  of  evil  in  it. 

ixv.  Under  the  guidance  of  Reason  we  shall  take  the  greater 

good  and  the  lesser  evil  wherever  a  choice  lies  between  the 
two. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  good  and  evil  here  mean 
respectively  what  favours  and  what  hinders  the  develop- 
ment of  the  ideal  self. 

lxri  Under  the  direction  of  Reason  we  shall  prefer  a  greater 

future  good  to  a  present  smaller  good,  and  a  present  smaller 
evil  to  a  future  greater  evil. 

This,  of  course,  has  been  a  familiar  doctrine  of  preachers 
1  Ecmque  directe  vitare  cuperet. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  167 

in  all  ages.  But  the  distinctive  note  of  Spinoza  is  that 
under  the  guidance  of  Reason  he  recognises  only  real  good 
and  real  evil  verifiable  by  experience.  With  this  agrees 
the  following :  — 

The  free  man  thinks  of  nothing  less  than  of  death ;  and  ixvii. 
his  wisdom  is  meditation  not  of  death  but  of  life.  Tbe  lre(r 

man  not 
concerned 

These  words  need  no  comment.  with  death- 

Proposition  lxviii.  may  be  treated  parenthetically.  For  An  impos- 
it  puts  an  hypothesis  which  in  a  succeeding  Scholium  is  thesis.  5P°~ 
shown  to  be  impossible.  That  is,  '  supposing  men  to  be 
born  free,  they  would  form  no  conception  of  good  or  evil 
so  long  as  they  remained  free.'  For  that  man  is  free  who 
is  led  by  reason  alone.  But  such  a  man  can  have  no 
other  than  adequate  ideas,  and  therefore  has  no  concep- 
tion of  evil.  (Prop,  lxiv.)  The  implication  is  that  he 
sees  things  as  God  sees  them. 

But  Spinoza  takes  the  opportunity  of  illustrating  the 
meaning  of  the  above  impossible  hypothesis  by  the  myth 
of  Adam's  innocence  and  fall.  Perhaps  the  great  Jew 
gives  us  here  a  reminiscence  of  his  studies  in  the  Hagada  Spinoza  as 
or  exposition  for  purposes  of  edification  rather  than  exact  b 
interpretation.  At  any  rate,  he  suggests  that  in  the  story 
of  Adam's  creation,  '  no  other  power  of  God  is  conceived 
excepting  that  by  which  he  created  man.'  It  was  to 
keep  the  latter  within  the  range  of  adequate  ideas  that 
he  was  debarred  from  '  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil.'  And  by  an  edifying  modification  of  the  ancient 
text  Spinoza  tells  us,  God  warned  Adam  '  that  as  soon  as 
he  ate  of  it  he  would  immediately  dread  death  rather 
than  desire  to  live.'     With  an  obscure  allusion,  possibly 


168  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

to  sensual  degradation,  we  are  told  that  when  Adam 
1  came  to  believe  that  the  brutes  were  like  himself  he 
immediately  began  to  imitate  their  affections  '  (passions). 
Thus  he  fell  under  inadequate  ideas  and  lost  his  freedom. 
This  freedom,  however,  was  regained  by  the  Patriarchs, 
who  were  '  led  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  that  is  to  say,  by 
the  idea  of  God,  which  alone  can  make  a  man  free,  and 
cause  him  to  desire  for  other  men  the  good  he  desires  for 
himself.'  Sir  F.  Pollock  seems  to  doubt  whether  Spinoza 
was  serious  here.  I  do  not  know  why  we  should 
hesitate.  Early  habits  of  thought  had  a  charm  for  him 
as  for  lesser  men.  And  after  all  he  only  uses  the 
myth  as  a  sort  of  paradigm  to  explain  what  the  con- 
dition of  man  would  be  on  the  impossible  hypothesis  of 
Prop,  lxviii. 

lxix.  The  virtue  of  a  free  man  is  seen   to  be   equally  great 

whether  in  avoiding  or  in  overcoming  dangers. 
Abraham  This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  attitude  of  Abraham 
slavery .aiU  Lincoln  towards  slavery ;  an  attitude  subject  at  the  time 
of  the  war  and  after  to  undeserved  criticism.  He  had  no 
constitutional  power  to  make  the  existence  of  slavery  the 
gage  of  battle  at  the  outset.  And  his  virtue  or  his  valour 
was  seen  in  declining  the  danger  which  such  an  uncon- 
stitutional course  would  have  involved.  The  Union  alone 
could  be  legally  alleged  as  the  prize  to  be  maintained  at 
all  costs.  But  when  the  conflict  had  reached  the  stage 
at  which  slavery  was  recognised  on  both  sides  as  absolutely 
incompatible  with  a  restoration  of  the  Union,  then  Lin- 
coln's virtue,  or  valour,  was  equally  shown  in  facing  the 
danger  of  the  emancipation  proclamation  as  justified  by 
the  emergencies  of  war. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  169 

A  free  man  living  among  the  ignorant 1  seeks  as  much  as  lxx. 
possible  to  avoid  their  favours.  oVfev^SS 

This  is  because  the  servant  of  Eeason  and  the  devotee  worthless. 
of  superstition  estimate  so  differently  things  good  and  bad 
that  there  is  between  them  hardly  any  current  coin. 

Only  free  men  are  entirely  congenial  (gratissimi)  toward  bra. 
each  other. 

The  free  man  never  acts  with  malignant  deceit  but  always  Ixxii. 
loyally. 

A  man  directed  by  Eeason  has  more  freedom  in  a  common-  lxxhi. 
wealth  (civitate),  where  he  lives  according  to  an  agreed  con-  greater  in 
stitution  of  things  (ex  communi  decreto)  than  in  solitude,  where  s?cial. life 

r        i  t     ,  ?       i ,  '  than  m 

ne  obeys  only  himself.  solitude. 

This  looks  paradoxical,  but  the  explanation  is  that  the 
man  actuated  by  Eeason  alone  knows  no  fear,  nor  does 
he  suffer  compulsion,  but  from  the  free  action  of  his 
essential  nature  seeks  the  good  of  his  kind.  For  such 
free  action  there  is  more  scope  in  a  commonwealth  than 
in  solitude. 

The  concluding  Scholium  is  as  follows : — 

1  These  and  such-like  principles  of  the  true  freedom2  of 
man  as  hitherto  expounded  are  related  to  Fortitude,  that  is, 
to  Force  of  Mind  and  Generosity.  Nor  do  I  think  it  worth 
while  here  to  exhibit  separately  all  the  properties  of  Forti- 
tude ;  still  less  (to  prove)  that  a  brave  man  should  hold  no 
one  in  hatred,  should  feel  anger  toward  no  one,  should  not 
envy  nor  cherish  indignation,  nor  feel  contempt  for  any,  and 
least  of  all  should  give  way  to  Pride.  For  these  lessons  and 
everything  concerning   true  life  and   Religion   are   readily 

1  There  is  a  doubt  whether  this  is  the  word  Spinoza  wrote. 
A  version  taken  direct  from  his  autograph  has  ignavua — vile,  or 
worthless — instead  of  ignarvs. 

2  The  avowed  subject  of  Part  iv.  is  human  bondage.  But  by 
contrast  the  principles  of  liberty  have  necessarily  been  suggested. 


170  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

enforced  by  earlier  propositions  of  this  Part,1  as  for  instance 
that  hatred  is  to  be  conquered  by  love,  and  that  every  one 
guided  by  Reason  desires  for  the  rest  of  men  the  good  he 
desires  for  himself.  To  which  must  be  added  what  in  many 
places  we  have  remarked,  that  a  brave  man  puts  in  the 
forefront  of  all  his  considerations  the  fact  that  all  things 
follow  from  the  necessity  of  the  divine  nature;  and  that 
accordingly  whatever  he  thinks  to  be  hurtful  or  evil,  and 
also  what  seems  impious,  terrible,  unjust,  and  vile,  occurs  to 
him  in  that  form  because  he  conceives  the  facts  themselves 
in  a  disorderly,  fragmentary,  and  confused  manner.  On  this 
account  he  tries  first  of  all  to  conceive  things  as  they  really 
are,  and  to  free  himself  from  hindrances  to  true  knowledge, 
such  as  are  Hatred,  Anger,  Envy,  Derision,  Pride  and  the 
like,  which  we  have  pointed  out  above,  and  so  he  endeavours, 
as  much  as  lieth  in  him,  to  do  good — as  we  have  said — and 
to  rejoice.  To  what  lengths,  however,  human  virtue  may 
proceed  in  such  attainments,  and  what  is  its  power,  I  will 
show  in  the  succeeding  Part.' 


APPENDIX 

To  this  Fourth  Part  Spinoza  adds  an  important  ap- 
pendix. He  seems  to  have  been  aware  that  his  so-called 
'  mathematical '  method  of  proof  must  cause  special  diffi- 
culties to  students  of  his  system.  And  he  apprehended, 
not  without  reason,  that  these  difficulties  would  be  speci- 
ally felt  in  regard  to  his  method  of  discussing  human 
bondage.  He  therefore  added  a  kind  oifHcis  of  the  whole 
Part  compressed  into  thirty-two  paragraphs  or  chapters. 
Whether  these  are  really  much  easier  to  understand  than 
the  propositions  themselves,  with  such  illustrations  as 
above  given,  is  a  question  on  which  opinions  may  differ. 

1  Sc,  Props,  xxxvi.,  xxxvii.,  xlv.,  xlvi.,  etc. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  171 

But  I  think  it  well  to  give  the  appendix  without  note 
or  comment,  only  premising  that  the  translation  is  in- 
tended as  usual  to  exhibit  the  meaning  clearly  to  English 
readers,  and  therefore  does  not  adhere  verbatim  to  the 
Latin  where  such  a  method  would  make  the  English 
obscure. 

My  observations  in  this  Part  concerning  the  right  principle  The 
of  living  have  not  been  so  arranged  as  to  be  (readily)  seen  as  J^sons*5 
one  whole,  but  have  been  proved  here  and  there  according  as  for  the 
I  could  more  easily  deduce  one  from  another.     I  propose    ppen 
therefore   here   to   recapitulate  them,  and  to  arrange  them 
under  the  most  important  heads. 


I. 

{ All  our  efforts  or  Desires  follow  from  the  necessity  (in-  Theory  of 
evi table  tendency)  of  our  own  nature  in  such  a  manner  that Desire- 
they  may  be  understood  either  through  that  nature  itself  alone 
as  their  immediate  cause,  or  else  from  our  being  a  part  of 
Nature   which   part   cannot  be  adequately  conceived   apart 
from  other  individuals. 


II. 

*  The  desires  which  so  spring  from  our  own  nature  that  Active  and 
they  can  be  understood  through  that  nature  alone,  are  such  SJJST 
as  belong  to  the  Mind  in  so  far  as  the  latter  is  conceived  to 
consist  of  adequate  ideas ;  but  other  desires  do  not  belong 
to  the  Mind  except  so  far  as  it  conceives  things  inadequately  ; 
and  their  force  and  growth  is  not  to  be  determined  by  human 
power,  but  by  the  power  of  external  things.  Therefore  the 
former  desires  are  rightly  called  active  (or  actions),  but  the 
latter  passions  (i.e.  passive).  For  the  former  indicate  our 
power,  and  the  latter,  on  the  other  hand,  our  impotence  and 
fragmentary  knowledge. 


172  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

III. 

Good  and  ■  Our  activities  (adiones),  that  is,  those  Desires  which  are 
determined  by  man's  power  or  Reason,  are  always  good. 
But  the  rest  may  be  as  often  bad  as  good. 

IV. 

The  chief  '  Thus  in  life  our  prime  advantage  is  as  far  as  possible  to 
end  of  Man.  make  perfect  the  intellect  or  Reason  ;  and  in  this  one  thing 
the  highest  happiness  or  blessedness  of  man  consists.  That 
is  to  say,  blessedness  is  nothing  other  than  that  very  peace 
of  mind  which  springs  from  the  intuitive  knowledge  of  God. 
Now  to  make  perfect  the  intellect  is  nothing  other  than  to 
understand  God,  and  the  attributes  and  actions  of  God 
which  follow  by  necessity  from  His  very  nature.  Wherefore 
the  chief  end  of  the  man  who  is  led  by  Reason,  that  is,  his 
supreme  Desire,  by  which  he  seeks  to  regulate  all  other 
desires,  is  to  get  an  adequate  conception  of  himself  and  of  all 
those  things  which  may  fall  within  the  scope  of  his  intellect 
(intelligentiam). 

V. 

Good  and         '  There  is  therefore  no  reasonable  (rationalis)  life  without 
bad-  intelligence,  and  things  are  good  only  in  as  far  as  they  help 

the  man  to  enjoy  that  mental  life  which  is  measured  by 
intelligence.  On  the  other  hand,  those  things  only  do  Ave 
call  bad  which  hinder  a  man  from  perfecting  Reason  and 
enjoying  a  reasonable  life. 

VI. 

Evil  from  '  But  since  every  thing  of  which  a  man  is  an  efficient  cause 
manlde  *  *,s  g°°d  °f  necessity,  therefore  nothing  evil  can  happen  to  a 
man  unless  from  outward  causes ;  that  is  to  say,  inasmuch  as 
he  is  a  part  of  all  Nature  whose  laws  human  nature  must 
obey,  and  to  which  it  must  conform  itself  in  an  almost 
infinite  number  of  ways. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  173 

VII. 

1  Now  it  is  impossible  that  man  should  not  be  a  part  of  The  natural 
Nature  or  not  follow  her  usual  order.     But  if  he  should  dent oncir- 
have  a  position  among  such  individual  objects  as  accord  with  cumstances. 
his  own  nature,  by  that  very  fact  will  his  power  for  action 
be  aided  and  sustained.      If,  on  the  other  hand,   he  lives 
among  such  objects  as  scarcely  accord  at  all  with  his  own 
nature,  he   will  hardly  be   able  without  a  great  change  in 
himself  to  accommodate  himself  to  them. 

VIII. 

'  Whatever  in  Nature  is  met  with  that  we  judge  to  be  evil,  Prerogative 
or  able  to  hamper  our  existence  and  enjoyment  of  a  life  serration?" 
according  to  Reason,  this  it  is  allowable  for  us  to  get  rid  of 
by  such  method  as  appears  safest.  And  whatever,  on  the 
contrary,  is  met  with  which  we  judge  to  be  good  or  useful 
for  the  preservation  of  our  (essential)  being  and  for  the 
enjoyment  of  a  life  according  to  Reason,  this  it  is  allowable 
for  us  to  take  for  our  benefit  and  to  use  it  in  any  way. 
And  by  the  supreme  right  of  Nature  absolutely  everything 
is  allowable  to  each  man  which  he  judges  to  conduce  to  his 
welfare.1 

IX. 


'  Nothing  can  be  more  accordant  with  the  Nature  of  an  Place  of 
(individual)  thing  than  other  individuals  of  the  same  kind,  thTliie"  of 
And  therefore  (see  VII.  above)  a  man  can  have  nothing  more  Reason, 
suitable  for  the  preservation  of  his  (essential)  being  and  his 
enjoyment  of  a  life  according  to  Reason  than  (another)  man 
who  is  led  by  Reason.      Farther,   since   among  individual 
objects  we  know  nothing  more  excellent  than  a  man  led  by 
Reason,  therefore  in  no  way  whatever  can  any  one   more 
clearly  manifest  his  resources  in  skill  and  talent  than  by  so 

1  Any  one  who  has  followed  the  Ethics  so  far  can  scarcely  need  ;i 
reminder  that  no  one  acting  according  to  Reason  can  judge  anything 
to  be  good  for  himself  if  it  injures  another. 


174 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


moulding1  men  that  they  come  at  last  to  live  under  the 
direct  authority  of  Reason. 


No  enemy 
more  fatal 
than  man 
to  the 
higher  life. 


Such 
enmity- 
yields  to 
Love. 


X. 

'  In  proportion  as  men  are  mutually  actuated  toward  each 
other  by  Envy  or  by  some  other  passion  of  Hate,  in  that 
proportion  are  they  contrary  to  each  other,2  and  consequently 
the  more  to  be  feared  inasmuch  as  they  have  more  power 
than  any  other  natural  things. 

XI. 

1  Minds,  however,  are  conquered,  not  by  arms,  but  by  Love 
and  Generosity. 

XII. 

Union  is  <  To  men  it  is  above  all  things  profitable  to  form  com- 

strength 

munities  and  to  unite  themselves  by  such  bonds  as  are  best 

fitted  to  make  of  them  all  one  man,  and  generally  to  do 

whatever  serves  for  the  strengthening  of  friendships. 

XIII. 

ineffective-       « But  for  such  purposes  art  and  watchful  care  are  needed. 

nunciation.  For  men  are  changeable — few  indeed  being  those  who  live 
by  the  direction  of  Reason — and  at  the  same  time  they  are 
predominantly  envious,  and  more  inclined  to  vengeance  than 
to  pity.  To  bear  with  each,  therefore,  according  to  his 
disposition,  and  to  refrain  from  imitating  his  passions,  re- 
quires a  rare  strength  of  mind.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
those  whose  only  skill  is  to  criticise  men,  and  to  revile  their 
vices  rather  than  to  teach  virtue,  and  rather  to  break  their 
spirit  than  to  fortify  their  minds,  are  injurious  both  to 
themselves  and  others.      On  which  account  many  of  them, 

1  Hominibus  ita  educandis. 

2  This  is  not  the  truism  that  it  looks.  The  underlying  thought  is 
always  the  development  of  man's  highest  good,  the  life  according  to 
Reason.  It  is  with  respect  to  this  that  men  mutually  envious  and 
angry  are  'contrary  to  each  other.'  Whenever  the  above  becomes  a 
truism  there  will  be  no  more  war. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  175 

through  excessive  impatience  and  a  false  zeal  for  Religion,  How  false 
have  chosen  rather  to  live  among  beasts  than  among  men ;  renlfon 
just  as  boys  and  youths  who  cannot  bear  calmly  the  rebukes  has°made 
of  their  parents,  betake  them  to  the  army  and  choose  the   eranK 
discomforts  of  war  and  despotic  command  rather  than  home 
comforts  with  paternal  reprimands;    suffering  any  kind  of 
oppression,  if  only  they  may  spite  their  parents. 


XIV. 

Although,  therefore,  men  generally  bend  everything  to  Moral 

claims 
society. 


their  low  desires,  many  more  advantages  than  disadvantages  cli 


arise  from  their  social  union.  Wherefore  it  is  better  to 
endure  with  an  equal  mind  the  injuries  inflicted  by  them, 
and  to  apply  our  minds  to  those  things  which  make  for 
concord  and  the  confirmation  of  friendship. 

XV. 

'  The  things  that  beget  concord  are  such  as  belong  to  Moral 
justice,  fairness,  and  honour.  For  besides  what  is  unjust  society? 
and  unfair,  men  are  revolted  by  what  is  accounted  base,  or 
by  the  contempt  of  any  one  for  the  established  customs  of 
the  State.  In  order  to  win  Love,  our  prime  requirement 
is  Religion  and  Piety,  with  all  that  they  imply.  On  this 
point  see,  in  this  Part,  Prop,  xxxvii.,  Schol.  1  and  2 ;  Prop, 
xlvi.,  Schol. ;  Prop,  lxxiii. 

XVI. 

1  Concord,  moreover,  is  often  the  result  of  fear ;  but  then  it  Neither 
is  without  good  faith.     It  is  to  be  observed,  too,  that  fear  g^5n«nt  a 
arises  from  impotence  of  mind  and  therefore  is  of  no  service  sufficient 
to  Reason  ;  nor  is  pity,  though  it  assume  an  aspect  of  piety,    concord. 

XVII. 

'  Men  are  also  conquered  by  bountifulness,  especially  those  Care  of  the 
who  have  not  the  means  of  providing  the  necessaries  of  life.  [[JtSness  of 
On  the  other  hand,  to  help  every  one  who  is  in  need,  far  the  State, 
surpasses  the  resources  and  faculty  of  a  private  person.     For 


176 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


the  wealth  of  a  private  person  is  utterly  insufficient  to  meet 
the  demand.  Besides,  the  capability  of  any  one  man  is  too 
limited  to  enable  him  to  unite  all  the  needy  with  him  in 
friendship.  So  that  the  care  of  the  poor  is  the  business  of 
the  community,  and  concerns  only  the  general  welfare. 

XVIII. 

Gratitude  '  In  receiving  favours  and  returning  thanks,  quite  different 
has  its  considerations  are  necessary ;  on  which  see  Part  IV.,  Prop. 
sideratkms.  lxx. ;  and  Prop,  lxxi.,  Schol. 

XIX. 

Illegitimate  'The  love  of  a  harlot,  that  is,  the  lust  of  sexual  inter- 
love'  course,  which  is  stirred  by  bodily  form,  and  absolutely  all 

love  which  recognises  any  cause  other  than  the  freedom  of 
the  mind,  easily  passes  over  into  hatred ;  unless  indeed,  which 
is  worse,  it  is  a  sort  of  madness,  and  even  then  it  begets 
discord  rather  than  concord. 

XX. 

Marriage.  'As  to  marriage,  it  is  clearly  in  accordance  with  Reason 
if  the  desire  of  corporal  union  is  occasioned  not  merely  by 
bodily  form  but  by  the  Love  of  begetting  and  wisely  educat- 
ing children ;  and  also  on  condition  that  the  love  of  both  the 
man  and  the  woman  has  for  its  cause  not  merely  bodily  form 
but  also  and  especially  freedom  of  mind. 

XXI. 

Flattery.  'Flattery  also  produces  concord;  but  only  by  the  base 
vice  of  self-enslavement  or  by  treachery.  There  are  none, 
therefore,  who  are  so  easily  taken  by  flattery  as  the  proud 
who  wish  to  be  greatest  and  are  not  so. 


Self-depre- 
ciation akin 
to  Pride. 


XXII. 

In  self-depreciation  there  is  a  false  colour  of  Piety  and 


Religion. 


And 


although   Self-depreciation  is   opposite   to 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  177 

Pride,  yet  the  self-depreciating  man  is  next  neighbour  to 
the  proud.1 

XXIII. 

'  Shame   also  helps  concord,  but  only  in  such  things  as  Shame, 
cannot  be  concealed.     Moreover,  since  Shame  itself  is  a  kind 
of  Grief,  it  is  not  adapted  to  the  service  of  Reason. 


XXIV. 

'  The  rest  of  the  affections  of  Grief  in  their  bearing  on  Grief 
men  are  directly  opposed  to  justice,  equity,  honour,  piety,  £SpM 
and  religion ;    and  although   Indignation  seems  to  have  a  indignation 
colour  of  equity,  yet  in  a  state  of  things  where  it  is  per-  borders  on 
mitted  to  every  one  to  judge  the  deeds  of  another,  and  to 
vindicate  his  own  or  another's  right,  life  is  practically  without 
law. 


XXV. 

'Affability,  that  is,  the  craving  to  propitiate  men,  if  it  is  Affability , 
determined  by  Reason,  is  related  to  Piety  (cf.  Pt.  ix.,  ^gand 
Prop,  xxxvii.,  Schol.  1).  But  if  it  should  arise  from  passion 
(ex  affectu)  it  is  Ambition,  or  a  craving,  by  which  men  under 
a  false  pretext  of  Piety  very  often  stir  up  quarrels  and 
seditions.  For  he  who  desires  to  assist  the  rest  of  men 
either  by  advice  or  by  his  substance,  in  order  that  they  may 
together  enjoy  the  supreme  good,  will  study  above  all  things 
to  win  their  love ;  but  not  to  draw  them  into  admiration  (of 
him)  so  that  a  system  may  be  named  after  him ;  and  he  will 
avoid  giving  any  occasion  whatever  for  envy.  In  ordinary 
talk,  too,  he  will  avoid  mention  of  the  vices  of  men,  and  will 
take  care  to  speak  only  sparingly  of  human  impotence.  But 
he  will  talk  at  large  of  human  virtue  or  power  and  of  the 
means  by  which  it  may  be  perfected ;  so  that  men,  being 
moved  not  by  fear  nor  by  revulsion  of  feeling,  but  by  the 

1  The  common  phrase,  'the  pride  of  humility,'  shows  that  the  same 
thing  has  been  observed  by  the  unphilosophie  many. 

M 


178  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

affection  of  Joy  alone,  nay,  as  much  as  in  them  is,  try  to  live 
by  the  Rule  of  Reason. 

XXVI. 
Our  atti-  «  Excepting  men,  we  do  not  know  any  individual  object  in 

tudetoward 

Man  and  Nature  in  whose  mind  we  can  take  pleasure  or  that  we  can 
Nature.  unite  to  ourselves  in  friendship  or  in  any  kind  of  society ; 1 
and  therefore  regard  to  our  own  profit  does  not  demand  that 
we  should  preserve  anything  which  exists  in  Nature  except 
men ;  but  such  regard  teaches  us  to  preserve  it  or  destroy 
it  according  as  either  course  may  be  useful,  or  to  adapt  it  to 
our  own  use  in  any  way  whatever. 

XXVII. 

Food,  '  The  profit  which  we  derive  from  objects  external  to  us, 

Mind. aUC  over  aRd  above  the  experience  and  knowledge  we  obtain 
because  we  observe  them  and  change  them  from  their  original 
form  into  others,  is  chiefly  the  preservation  of  the  Body. 
And  for  this  reason  those  objects  are  the  most  profitable  to 
us  which  can  feed  and  nourish  the  Body,  so  that  all  its  parts 
may  be  able  properly  to  perform  their  functions.  For  the 
more  capable  the  Body  is  of  being  affected  in  many  ways, 
and  affecting  external  bodies  in  many  ways,  the  more  capable 
of  thinking  is  the  Mind.  (Pt.  iv.,  Props,  xxxviii.  and  xxxix.) 
But  of  this  particular  character  there  seem  to  be  very  few 
things  in  Nature.  Wherefore  it  is  necessary  for  the  requisite 
nourishment  of  the  Body  to  use  many  foods  of  diverse  sorts. 
That  is,  the  human  Body  is  made  up  of  very  many  parts  of 
diversified  nature,  which  need  constant  and  varied  food  in 
order  that  the  whole  Body  may  be  equally  adapted  for  all 
those  things  which  naturally  result  from  its  constitution,  and 
that  the  Mind  also  may  by  consequence  be  fitted  for  con- 
ceiving many  things. 

1  Presumably  Spinoza  never  kept  a  dog.  But  the  more  liberal 
estimate  formed  in  modern  times  of  the  intelligence  and  sympathy  of 
higher  animals  does  not  directly  contradict  the  above  doctrine  as  to 
our  right  to  use  Nature.  It  only  modifies  it  by  bringing  some  non- 
human  things  within  the  outer  circle  of  human  sympathies. 


THE  BONDAGE  OF  MAN  179 

XXVIII. 

1  In  procuring  all  this  the  capacity  of  any  one  man  would 
be  insufficient  if  men  did  not  mutually  assist  one  another. 
But  money  has  furnished  a  concentrated  equivalent  of  all  Money 
possessions.  Hence  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  idea  of  money  ^  things. 
has  such  a  hold  on  the  Minds  of  common  men ;  because  they 
can  scarcely  conceive  any  sort  of  Joy  without  the  concomitant 
idea  of  money  as  its  cause. 

XXIX. 

'  This,  however,  is  a  vice  only  in  those  who  seek  money  Misers  and 
not  because  of  poverty  nor  because  of  urgent  needs,  but  tnnlt« 
because  they  have  learned  the  arts  of  gain,  by  means  of 
which  they  make  a  grand  appearance.  As  for  the  Body, 
they  nourish  it  according  to  custom,  but  sparely,  because 
they  believe  they  entirely  lose  just  as  much  of  their  posses- 
sions as  they  spend  on  the  preservation  of  the  Body.  But 
those  who  know  the  true  use  of  money  and  regulate  the 
measure  of  their  wealth  according  to  their  needs  alone  live 
contented  with  little. 

XXX. 

'  Since  therefore  those  things  are  good  which  help  the  parts  Joy,  its 
of  the  body  to  perform  their  functions,  and  since  Joy  consists  amfdan4i> 
in  this,  that  the  power  of  man,  in  as  far  as  he  is  both  Mind 
and  Body,  is  aided,  or  increased,  therefore  all  things  which 
bring  Joy  are  good.  Yet  since  things  do  not  work  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  us  Joy,  nor  is  their  power  of  action  regu- 
lated by  the  consideration  of  what  is  profitable  for  us,  and 
lastly,  since  Joy  very  often  affects  predominantly  one  part  of 
the  Body,  it  follows  that  the  affections  of  Joy  and  by  con- 
sequence the  desires  also  suggested  by  it,  run  to  excess, 
unless  Reason  and  watchfulness  are  at  hand.  And  we  must 
add  that  we  are  most  chiefly  affected  by  what  is  sweet  to  us 
at  the  present  moment,  nor  arc  we  able  to  prize  the  future 
with  equal  emotion.  (Pt.  IV.,  Prop,  xliv.,  Schol. ;  Prop,  lx., 
Schol.) 


180  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

XXXI. 

Errors  of  <  Yet  Superstition  appears  on  the  contrary  to  make  what- 
fciolTcon-  ever  brings  sadness  to  be  good  and  whatever  brings  Joy  to 
cernmg  Joy  }-,e  cvi\t  gut,  as  we  have  said  (Pt.  iv.,  Prop,  xlv.,  Schol.),  no 
being,  unless  affected  by  envy,  is  pleased  by  my  impotence 
or  misfortune.  For  the  greater  the  Joy  with  which  we  are 
affected,  the  greater  is  the  perfection  to  which  we  attain, 
and  by  consequence  the  more  are  we  partakers  of  the  divine 
nature.  Nor  can  any  Joy  ever  be  evil  when  a  sound  con- 
sideration of  our  own  profit  controls  it.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  who  is  led  by  Fear  and  who  shuns  good  as  an  evil 
thing  is  not  guided  by  Reason. 

XXXII. 

The  'But  human  power  is  very  limited  and  is  infinitely  over- 

Reason  °f  Passed  by  the  power  of  external  causes.  And  therefore  we 
have  no  absolute  power  to  fit  to  our  needs  the  world  around 
us.  Nevertheless  we  shall  bear  with  an  equal  mind  what- 
ever happens  contrary  to  our  notions  of  our  own  welfare  if  we 
are  conscious  that  we  have  done  our  duty,  and  that  such 
power  as  we  possess  could  not  by  any  possible  exertion  have 
avoided  those  ills  ;  while  at  the  same  time  we  remember  that 
we  are  part  of  the  Whole  of  Nature  and  follow  in  its  course. 
If  we  clearly  and  distinctly  understand  this,  that  part  of  us 
which  is  determined  by  intellect — the  better  part  of  us — 
will  entirely  acquiesce  and  will  endeavour  to  hold  fast  that 
acquiescence.  For  so  far  as  we  live  by  the  intellect  we  can 
only  desire  that  which  is  inevitable,1  nor  can  we  at  all 
acquiesce  in  anything  but  what  is  true.  Thus  in  as  far  as 
we  rightly  understand  these  things,  so  far  the  better  part  of 
us  is  in  harmony  with  the  Whole  of  Nature.' 

1  The  ideal  of  the  reformer  or  the  philanthropist — if  it  be  true  to 
the  nature  of  things,  i.e.  to  the  nature  of  God — is  inevitable,  though 
seldom  realised  in  his  personal  lifetime. 


PART  V 

THE  POWER  OF  THE  INTELLECT;  OR,  THE 
FREEDOM  OF  MAN 

To  bring  home  to  the  modern  English  mind  the  practical  Method 

°  or  adopted. 

common-sense  forming  the  core  of  Spinoza's  teaching  in 
the  concluding  Part  of  his  Ethics,  it  seems  best  to  abandon 
even  more  entirely  than  we  have  done  in  the  immediately 
previous  Parts,  any  attempt  to  fit  together  in  their  so- 
called  mathematical  order  the  successive  steps  of  the 
argument.  Instead  of  that,  we  may  try  to  present  the  Practical 
practical  results  of  the  argument  in  such  a  form  as  may  chiefly  in 
be  available  for  the  guidance  of  daily  life.1 

The  first  thing  to  be  fixed  in  our  minds  is  familiar  Recapituia- 
enough  if  we  have  followed  the  Master  to  this  point ;  but  doctrine  of 
it  may  need  reiteration.  For  the  freedom  expounded  is 
not  that  of  caprice  or  self-will,  but  simply  action  without 
compulsion  or  restraint  from  without.  And  by  compul-l 
sion  or  restraint  from  without  is  meant  any  impelling  or; 
deterring  influence  which  is  not  spontaneously  2  generated 
within  the  area  of  the  man's  nature  considered  as  a  finite' 

1  The  preface  may,  for  our  purpose,  be  ignored.  For  it  is  mainly 
a  discussion  of  Descartes'  quite  fanciful  speculations  on  the  pineal 
gland,  and  also  of  that  illustrious  philosopher's  dualistic  theory  of 
body  and  soul,  a  theory  utterly  alien  to  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  the 
identity  of  the  two. 

2  '  Spontaneously '  in  the  sense  of  John  iv.  14:  'The  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  upjaitojever- 

181 


182  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

as  indepen-  expression  of  God.     Thus  no  man  is  free  who  acts  through 

dence  of  j         *  ° 

influences    i10pe  of  Heaven  or  fear  of  Hell,  or  through  the  impul- 

outside  oulr        x  #<  °  \ 

proper     I  sion  or  restraint  exercised  by  any  other  pleasure  desired 

nature. 


or  penalty  feared.  Because,  of  course,  in  any  such  case, 
the  man  affected  would  by  hypothesis  act  quite  differ- 
ently if  the  fear  of  punishment  or  the  hope  of  reward 
were  withdrawn.  He  cannot  therefore  be  said  to  act 
freely.  For  that  prerogative  belongs  only  to  the  man 
who  carries  his  essential  being  into  action  without  being 
'  warped  or  thwarted  by  external  influences.  Thus,  when 
Tenn)^son  wrote : 

The  Poet's  '  I  do  but  sing  because  I  must, 

Afflatus-  And  pipe  but  as  the  linnets  sing,' 

there  was  no  thought  of  compulsion  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  imperious  pressure  from  without,  but  only  of  an 
unimpeded  issue  into  outward  form  of  an  impulse  proper 
to  his  essential  nature.  According  to  Spinoza  this  is  the 
S  only  freedom  possible  to  finite  beings,  and  is  the  assured 
and  everlasting  prerogative  of  God. 
Exuberance      The  sports  of  lambs  on  a  spring  evening,  or  the  healthy 

of  innocent    .  ,,".,, 

life.  infants  spontaneous  gambols   accompanied   by  trills  ot 

laughter  sounding  like  the  song  of  the  skylark,  are  also 
illustrations  of  Spinoza's  idea  of  freedom.  The  inward 
nature,  or  '  essence/  in  either  case  is  a  fathomless  foun- 
tain from  which  joy  in  action  bubbles  forth  without  other 
apparent  motive  than  itself.  In  other  words,  the  little 
life  is  an  'adequate  cause'  of  such  displays,  and  there  is 

lasting  life.'  The  creature  is  not  the  source  of  the  living  water,  but  it 
wells  up  in  him  through  his  relation  to  the  life  of  God.  It  cannot  be 
traced  to  any  finite  cause  outside  the  area  of  the  man's  own  nature, 
though,  of  course,  it  is  related  to  such  untraced  'cause'  or  'causes.' 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  183 

nothing  else  needed  to  account  for  them.  Or  if  it  be 
suggested  that,  according  to  Spinoza,  there  is  no  cause 
but  God,  this  is  perfectly  consistent  with  all  that  has 
been  said.  For  it  is  of  course  God — not  as  infinite,  but 
as  manifest  in  a  finite  mode  of  extension  and  thought  or 
consciousness — who  is  the  adequate  cause  of  animal  or 
infant  spontaneity  of  joy.  Our  present  object,  however,' 
is  to  fix  as  definitely  and  clearly  as  possible  Spinoza's 
idea  of  freedom,  which  is  simply  action  from  within  and 
according  to  the  divine  nature  in  us,  without  interference 
by  external  causes.  Thus  the  fully  developed  free  man) 
is  one  who  'does  justice,  loves  mercy,  and  walks  humbly' 
with  his  God '  as  spontaneously  as  the  lamb  frisks  or  the 
child  plays.1 

The  hindrances  to  such  freedom  are,  in  the  ordinary  Hindrances 

to  freedom. 

man,  mainly  the  passions,  or,  as  St.  Paul  has  it,  '  the 
works  of  the  flesh  .  .  .  adultery,  fornication,  unclean- 
ness,  lasciviousness,  idolatry,2  witchcraft,  hatred,  variance, 
emulations,  wrath,  strifes,  seditions,  heresies,  envyings, 
murders,  drunkenness,  revellings,  and  such  like.'  The 
Apostle  did  not  pretend  to  give  an  exhaustive  list.     But 

1  Readers  of  the  previous  Parts  of  the  Ethics  ought  not  to  need  any 
caution  against  the  hasty  and  mistaken  inference  that  action  from 
conscious  motive,  or  under  external  influence,  forms  no  part  of 
Spinoza's  ethical  system.  As  a  discipline  it  was  a  conspicuous  element 
in  his  plan  of  salvation  (see  Scholium  to  Prop.  x.  in  this  Part).  But 
actual  salvation,  the  higher  life  with  its  holy  freedom,  was,  in  his 
view,  what  is  here  set  forth. 

2  My  inclusion  of  idolatry,  witchcraft,  sedition,  heresies  might  seem 
foreign  to  Spinozism.  But  it  is  not  so.  For  'idolatry'  includes  the 
worship  of  a  god  framed  out  of  our  own  sentiment  of  what  he  ought 
to  be,  as  well  as  that  of  a  god  wrought  out  of  wood  or  stone.  '  Witch- 
craft' would  include  much  of  modern  'spiritism.'  'Seditions'  and 
'heresies'  may  mean  any  arbitrary  rebellion  of  a  part  against  the 
whole  in  a  finite  community. 


184  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

he  gives  us  illustrations  which  suggest  that  his  notion  of 
spiritual  freedom  and  its  hindrances  was  in  its  essence 
St.  Paul  nearly  akin  to  that  of  Spinoza.  ' This  I  say  then,  walk 
Spiuoza.  in  the  spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the  flesh.' 
Surely  the  theological  Aberglaube  generated  by  tech- 
nical uses  of  the  word  '  spirit '  need  not  blind  us  to  the 
fact  that  St.  Paul's  idea  of  freedom  is  spontaneous  action 
issuing  from  the  inner  nature  which  is  in  touch  with 
God,  or  is  rather  a  manifestation  of  God,  and  is  un- 
troubled by  interference  from  without.  And  for  St.  Paul 
as  well  as  for  Spinoza  hindrances  to  freedom  were  all 
those  disturbing  influences  from  without  which  thwart  or 
distort  the  spontaneous  action  of  the  finite  manifestation 
of  God  constituting  the  '  adequate  idea '  of  each  individual 
man. 
The  slave  For  instance,  the  raging  man  is  not  himself  as  he  would 
of  passion,  ^  j^j.  ag  ^q  [s  forced  to  be  by  the  resistless  impulse  of 
an  external  provocation.  And  Spinoza's  doctrine  is  that 
the  raging  man,  for  all  his  bluster,  is  not  active  but 
passive,  suffering  under  the  suppression  of  his  true  self 
by  violence.  It  is  easy  to  apply  the  same  doctrine  to  all 
forms  of  passion  which  overmaster  us.  The  ordinary 
notion  is  that  they  are  states  of  morbid  activity.  But 
Spinoza's  theory  agrees  with  St.  Paul's  intuition  *  that  they 
are  rather  states  of  morbid  passivity  in  which  we  suffer 
under  alien  forces  too  strong  for  us. 

Shakespeare's  King  Lear  affords  a  case  in  point.  For 
one  of  the  most  pathetic  elements  in  the  tragedy  is  the 
raving  king's  shame  that  his  true  self  is  lost  and  that 

1  See,  in  addition  to  the  above-cited  passage  from  Gal.  v.  19,  also 
Romans  vii.  15,  vi.  16. 


THE  FKEEDOM  OF  MAN  185 

with  it  is  gone  all    real   spontaneity  of   utterance   and 

action : — 

'  Life  and  death  !  I  am  ashamed  King  Lear. 

That  thou  hast  power  to  shake  my  manhood  thus  ; 
That  these  hot  tears,  which  break  from  me  perforce, 
Should  make  thee  worth  them.5 

'  0  most  small  fault, 
How  ugly  didst  thou  in  Cordelia  show  ! 
That,  like  an  engine,  wrenched  my  frame  of  nature 
From  the  fixed  place,  drew  from  my  heart  all  love, 
And  added  to  the  gall.     O  Lear,  Lear,  Lear  ! 
Beat  at  this  gate,  that  let  thy  folly  in,         [Striking  his  head. 
And  thy  dear  judgment  out  !5 

These  last  lines  describe  exactly  Spinoza's  idea  of  ignoble 
passivity  as  contrasted  with  free  action.  It  matters  not 
that,  to  Shakespeare,  philosophy  came  through  imagina- 
tive insight  into  reality  rather  than  through  any  process 
of  reasoning ;  except  indeed  that  by  this  very  triumph  of 
imagination  he  proves  Spinoza  to  have  been  as  far  from 
infallibility  as  any  other  great  man.1  However  that 
may  be,  the  fall  of  Lear  is  conceived  as  the  dislocation 
of  the  true  self  with  its  spontaneity,  and  its  subjec- 
tion to  external  influences  that  ought  never  to  have  the 
mastery. 

How  then  is  such  a  bondage  to  be  broken,  and  true^The  plan  of 
freedom  achieved?  There  are  many  subsidiary  sugges-, 
tions  to  which  we  may  recur  with  advantage  after  we 
have  grasped  the  main  solution  to  which  Spinoza  leads 
up  by  his  favourite  method  of  successive  propositions  and 
proofs.  But  for  our  purpose  it  is  best  to  state  at  once 
with  such  plainness  as  the  subject  permits,  what  is  the 

1  The  '  imagination,'  however,  which  Spinoza  depreciates  is  scarcely 
that  which  was  Shakespeare's  glory. 


18G  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

lies  in  main-  Master's  answer  to  the  above  question,  or,  as  we  may  say, 
onrprero-    his  plan  of  salvation.     In  essence  it  is  this.     We  should 
partakers  of^abitually  realise  our   prerogative  as  partakers  of  the 
nature mc    divine   nature.     And  the   prerogative  consists   in  this: 
ownikits  ^hat  w^nin  limits  we  can  make  our  lives  in  thought, 
word,  and   deed   a  finite  but,   within   those   limits,   an 
adequate  expression  of  God.    For  each  individual  man  is 
a  finite  mode  of  divine  Extension  and  Thought.     Now 
\  the  prerogative  just  mentioned  is  the  capacity  to  mani- 
fest God  within  the  limits  of  certain  finite  Modes  while 
resisting  the  intrusion  of  other  finite  Modes  of  the  divine 
Attributes.     For  such  an  intrusion,  though  it  cannot  mar 
the  harmony  of  the  Infinite  Whole,  can  certainly  disturb 
the  self-contained  inward  concord  of  the  individual  life 
or  finite  expression  of  God. 
Case  of  For  illustration  of  this  view  of  moral  evil  we  may  recur 

to  the  raging  King  Lear,  who,  being  a  type,  embodies  in 
himself  the  experience  of  myriads  of  actual  men.     With 
the  wickedness  of  the  two  daughters  we  are  not  concerned 
here,  though,  in  the  eclipse  of  the  divine  nature  within 
them  by  the  obtrusion  of  greed,  ambition,  and  pride,  they 
also  illustrate  Spinoza's  theory  of  sin.     But  anger  at  their 
baseness,  to  which  Lear's  folly  alone  had  given  power, 
not  only  does  the  outraged  father  no  good,  but  aggravates 
such^se"1  his  misery  tenfold.     His  former  slavery  to  ill-regulated 
to  fiSte*    ^ove  ^as  become  now  an  even  more  hopeless  slavery  to 
andd°ns     impotent   hate.      His   madness   does   not,   according  to 
not  affect     Spinoza's  system,  mar  the  infinite  peace  and  harmony  of 
the  Universe  or  God.     But  it  does  disturb  within  Lear's 
finite  self  the  expression  of  God.     Or  we  may  put  it 
thus :  that  to  find  the  divine  meaning  of  Lear's  passion 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  187 

we  have  to  go  far  beyond  himself,  and  may  be  driven 
to  imagine  that  an  explanation  might  be  found  if  the 
infinite  scheme  of  things  could  be  grasped  by  our  minds 
in  its  totality. 

We  return  then  to  the  main  thesis  that  the  prime  con-  Kesump- 
dition  of  freedom  is  the  continuous  realisation  of  our  main  thesis, 
prerogative  as  partakers  of  the  divine  nature.  In  the 
enunciation  of  this  doctrine  as  taught  by  the  Master  in 
this  part  of  his  work  there  is  a  strain  of  poetry  nobler 
than  any  conceivable  by  Lord  Bacon,  though  Shakespeare 
attains  it  now  and  then.  But  it  is  found  only  in  those 
passages  where,  instead  of  '  suiting  the  shows  of  things 
to  the  desires  of  the  mind,' the  great  poet  unmasks  reality 
from  all  shows  and  gives  us  to  feel  eternal  rest  in  God. 
'Whosoever/  says  Spinoza,  'clearly  and  distinctly  under-,  Self  and 
stands  himself  and  his  own  mental  affections,  loves  Godj 
and  all  the  more  in  proportion  as  he  better  understand^ 
self  and  its  affections/ 1  The  doctrine  is  that  the  confused 
and  inadequate  ideas  associated  with  passion  are  ex- 
cluded. This  being  so,  a  man  who  clearly  and  distinctly 
recognises  his  place  in  the  Universe,  or  God,  necessarily 
regards  God  as  the  cause  of  whatever  joy  or  satisfaction 
he  has  in  existence;  or  if  little  of  such  pleasure  has 
fallen  to  his  lot,  he  can  look  beyond  himself  to  '  the  glory 
of  the  sum  of  things/  The  glow  of  feeling  with  which 
such  a  man  responds  to  the  Universe  is  what  I  under- 
stand the  Master  to  mean  by  '  the  intellectual  love  of  God.'  ( inteiiect- 
Thelate  Professor  Huxley, in  the  meridian  of  his  great  gifts  God.' 
and  in  the  full  career  of  joyful  work,  used  to  say  that 
at  the  end  of  every  day  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  say 

1  Prop,  xv.,  Tart  v. 


188  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

1  Thank  you '  to  some  Power  if  he  could  only  know  to 
whom  to  say  it.     Now  that  seems  to  me  the  attitude  of 
soul  described  by  Spinoza  in  the  above-quoted  proposi- 
tion j  and  the  fact  that  Huxley  preferred  to  call  himself 
an  Agnostic  rather  than  a  Pantheist,  scarcely  detracts 
from  the  value  of  the  illustration.     The  Pantheist  does 
know  to  whom  to  say  '  Thank  you.' 1     But  this  difference 
in  his  theory  of  the  Universe  does  not  in  the  least  pre- 
vent  his   cordial   recognition  of  the  devout   Agnostic's 
loyalty  to  the  unknown  source  of  his  joy. 
J  The  '  God-consciousness '  is  for  Spinoza  the  main  con- 
dition of  human  freedom.     But,  as  we  noted  above,  there 
Subsidiary   are  many  subsidiary  and  indeed  precedent  conditions  to  be 
dent  condi-  fulfilled  before  that  state  of  blessedness  can  be  reached. 
freedom.     For   instance,  we  have  to  remember  that  the  passions 
under   which   we   suffer   are   to   a   certain   extent  like 
physical  forces,  at  any  rate  in  this  respect,  that  action 
and    reaction   are   equal    and    opposite.      This    is   the 
practical   meaning   of   an   axiom  stated  thus :    '  If  two 
opposite  movements  are  excited  in  the  same  subject,  there 
must  of  necessity  arise  (fieri)  a  change  in  both  or  in  one 
alone  until  they  cease  to  be  opposed.1     Here  a  concrete 
instance  is  not  difficult   to    conceive.      Mrs.  Humphry 
Case  of       Ward's  Eobert  Elsmere  was  actuated  at  once  by  devotion 
Eismere.     to  truth  and  by  loyalty  to  ecclesiastical  tradition.     Now, 
though  he  was  not  at  first  aware  of  the  fact,  these  affec- 
tions were  two  contrary  movements  in  the  same  subject, 
and  one  or  other,  or  both,  had  to  be  changed  before  the 
inward   discord  could  be  attuned.     In  the  supposed  in- 
stance it  was  ecclesiastical  tradition  that  had  to   give 

1  This  is  very  different  from  saying  that  he  comprehends  God. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  189 

way.     But  in  many  real  cases,  as  is  well   known,  the  other  cases 

.in  which 

reverse  change  takes  place  and   ecclesiastical   tradition  doubt  is 

j    •  i  t     i  i     i     •        i       i  i  arbitrarily 

triumphs.  1  do  not  say  that  in  the  latter  cases  there  is  suppressed. 
any  conscious  disloyalty  to  truth.  But  what  happens 
is  that  the  mind  in  course  of  the  conflict  begins  to  divide 
truth  into  two  sorts ;  the  one  verifiable  as  in  everyday 
life,  the  other  transcendental,  going  beyond  experience 
altogether,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  assumption  that  God 
must  be  a  '  person  who  thinks  and  loves,'  and  that  He 
must  have  given  a  supernatural  revelation  to  man.  This 
is  quite  sufficient  to  effect  a  change  in  one  of  the  opposing 
affections  or  mental  movements.  Truth,  as  understood 
by  common-sense,  is  ignored,  and  tradition  is  triumphant. 

Very  different  illustrations  of  Spinoza's  axiom  may  be  Contrariety 

•  r»  i  in  more 

found  in  the  struggle  ot  more  commonly  opposed  pas-  ordinary 
sions,  such  as  drunkenness  and  family  affection,  love  of 
ease  and  desire  for  success,  philanthropy  and  sensual 
appetite,  or  a  hundred  other  pairs  of  affections,  or '  move- 
ments '  in  the  same  mind.  But  the  ultimate  bearing, 
already  anticipated,  is  the  incompatibility  of  any  base- 
ness with  the  intellectual  love  of  God. 

A   second   axiom   at  the  beginning  of  Part  v.  is  the 
following:  'The  power  of  a '  (mental  or  bodily)  '  affec-  Power  of  an 

,..,,,  .  „  affection 

tion  is  limited  by  the  power  of  its  cause,  so  far  as  the  limited  by 

jfo  C1USG 

essence  of  the  affection  is  explained  or  limited  by  the 
essence  of  its  cause.'  This  sounds  very  obscure,  but  I 
venture  to  think  that  a  simple  illustration  may  show 
that  it  sets  forth  a  truth  of  common-sense.  In  these  days  The  golf 
of  golf  many  a  business  man  is  tempted  by  fine  weather 
and  first-rate  links  to  spend  more  time  on  the  amusement 
than    is    quite   compatible   with   the    interests    of    his 


190  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

business.  But  the  power  of  the  attraction — affection  or 
passion — is  limited  by  'the  essence  of  the  cause,'  the 
enjoyment  of  skilful  action  and  emulation  in  an  open- 
air  game.  Now  let  a  messenger  come  with  the  tidings 
that  a  very  important  debtor  is  bankrupt.  The  clubs  are 
dropped  and  the  first  train  taken  for  the  place  of  business. 
For  the  power  of  passion  for  the  game  is  limited  by  the 
essence  of  the  cause  of  that  passion,  as  above  described,  a 
cause  which  after  all  touches  only  the  fringe  of  the  player's 
interests  in  life.  But  the  claims  of  self-preservation  are 
overwhelming,  and  an  attraction  which  a  moment  ago 
seemed  all-absorbing  is  now  eclipsed  and  forgotten. 
A  more  general  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  re- 
Is  it  worth  curring  question  *  Is  it  worth  while  ? '  which  obtrudes 
itself  in  times  of  fevered  and  disproportionate  exertion. 
The  question  '  Why  do  I  labour  and  bereave  my  soul  of 
good  ? '  is  perhaps  more  frequently  asked  now  than  it  was 
in  the  days  of  Koheleth.  And  it  generally  signifies  that 
the  power  of  the  affection  which  urged  the  labour  tends 
to  pass  beyond  the  limits  fixed  by  the  essence  of  its 
cause.  That  cause  may  be  a  desire  for  honest  independ- 
ence and  for  freedom  from  care.  But  should  it  lead  to 
increase  of  care  and  intolerable  pressure  of  demand  for 
exertion,  that  cause  has  exceeded  the  limits  of  its  essence, 
and  the  passion  it  has  excited  begins  to  pall. 

The  applications  of  these  salutary  principles  is  facili- 
tated by  the  truth  that  the  order  or  arrangement  of  ideas 
is  the  same  as  the  order  and  connection  of  things.1  Thus 
the  order  and  connection  of  ideas  and  of  bodily  affections 
is  the  same.     For  example,  in  the  morbid  constitution  of 

1  Prop,  vii.,  Part  n. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAX  191 

the  wine-bibber  the  idea  of  the  public-house  is  associated  intercon- 
nection of 
with  the  craving  for  drink.     And  though  this  may  seem  ideas  and 

.  .  affections 

to    be  a  truism,  it  opens  the  way  to  some  lessons   of  or  passions 
practical  value.     For  if  we  can  remove  a  mental  excite-  cal issues 
ment  or  affection  from  the  thought  of  an  external  cause  mv°  xe 
and  can  join  it  to  other  thoughts,  then  Love  or  Hatred 
toward  the  external  cause,  as  also  the  perturbation    of 
mind   arising   from   that    particular    affection,   will    be 
destroyed.1     Which  may  be  illustrated  thus :  The  crav- 
ing for  drink,  though  it  is  conceived  as  bodily,  has  its  Alcoholic 

.  excitement 

mental  counterpart  in  the  longing  to  pass   from  a  less  conceived 
perfect  to  a  more  perfect  condition.     And  if  this  seem  a  drunkard 
paradox,  let  it  be  remembered  that  an  erroneous  con-  perfect 
ception   of   a   less   perfect   and   more   perfect  condition con  ltlon' 
cannot  cancel  the  fundamental  fact  that  happiness  is  the 
passage  from  a  less  perfect  to  a  more  perfect  state.    True, 
the  projected  means  of  securing  this  are  in  the  case  in 
point    entirely   delusive.      Nevertheless,   the   collapsed, 
trembling  and  thirsty  drunkard  clings  to  the  delusion. 
For  the  contrast  between  his  shrunken,  nerveless,  miser- 
able condition  and  that  which  he  remembers  to  have 
been  produced  by  fulness  of  wine  is  to  him  the  differ- 
ence between  a  lower  and  a  higher  perfection.     Hence 
the  bottle  as  the  means  of  passing  from  the  one  state  to 
the  other  is  an  object  of  overwhelming  attraction,  or,  in 
Spinoza's  language,  of  desire  and  love. 

But  now  if,  by  some  intervention  of  sufficiently  powTer-  The  delu- 
ful  causes,  the   drunkard's  longing  for  a   more   perfect  may  be"ie° 
state  can  be  connected  with  a  more  real  object,  as,  for  rinGrereai 
instance,  the  restoration  to   health  and  happiness  of   a  obJect* 
suffering  wife  and  perishing  children,  or  the  attainment 

1   Trop.  ii.,  Pt  v. 


192  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

of  a  little  heaven  of  a  home  such  as  he  sees  his 
sober  and  industrious  neighbour  to  possess,  then  the 
love  for  drink  and  the  perturbation  of  mind  caused 
by  the  passion  will  be  destroyed.  All  this  seems 
perhaps  too  obvious  to  be  the  real  meaning  of  a  great 
philosopher.  For  it  may  be  plausibly  represented  as 
a  presentation  in  an  obscure  form  of  the  common- 
Thisis        place  principle   of  counter-attraction.     But  this  would 

more  than     *  *  x 

counter-      certainly  not  be  an  adequate  interpretation  of  Spinoza's 

attraction.  J  ,    ,  ,. 

meaning.  If  an  angry  baby  wants  to  grasp  a  glittering 
knife,  it  is  well  to  distract  the  infant's  attention  by 
dangling  before  its  eyes  a  brightly  coloured  ball.  But 
surely  it  is  a  higher  spiritual  process  by  which  the  mind 
of  a  mature  man  is  disengaged  from  an  illusive  object 
and  drawn  into  truer  relations  with  things  as  they  are, 
that  is,  with  God.  And  the  complications  attendant  on 
the  application  of  the  principle  in  daily  life  make  such 
a  moral  maze  that  only  a  man  of  great  genius  could 
discern  the  unifying  truth  which,  when  discovered, 
appears  so  plain. 

An  equally   practical   explanation    may   be   given   of 
Passion       another  proposition  which  directly  follows  :  '  An  affection 

reduced  by       ,  .  ,     . 

clear  ideas,  which  is  a  passion,  ceases  to  be  a  passion  as  soon  as  we 
form   a   clear   and  distinct  idea  of  it.'     For  example,  a 

The  miser,  miser  suffers  from  the  passion  of  accumulation.  But 
this  passion  is  caused  by  an  inadequate  or  confused  idea 
of  money  apart  from  any  realisation  of  its  true  relations 
to  human  life.  If,  however,  the  miser  could  get  a  clear 
and  distinct  idea  of  the  proper  place  of  money  in  the 
social  system,  that  is,  of  its  economic  and  philanthropic 
use,  the  desire  for  it  may  cease  to  be  a  'passion,' and 


THE  FKEEDOM  OF  MAN  193 

become  legitimately  active.  The  relation  of  such  prin- 
ciples to  the  main  thesis  that  freedom  is  found  in  a 
realisation  of  our  prerogative  as  partakers  of  the  divine 
nature  is  surely  apparent.  For  they  point  the  way  to 
our  becoming  consciously,  and  not  merely  as  passive 
units,  '  parts  and  proportions  of  one  wondrous  Whole.' 

Passing  over  some  links  in  the  argument  which  are  Passions 

«    «  •  assuaged  by- 

important  rather  to  Spinoza  s  ideal  of  intellectual  com-  realisation 

pleteness  than  to  the  practical  purpose  of  this  handbook,  sequence. 

we  must   dwell   for  a  moment  on  the  suggestion  of  a    rop" ' 

certain  moral   strength  derivable  from   the  doctrine  of 

inevitable  sequence. 

'  In  proportion  as  the  mind  understands  all  things  to  be 
linked  together  in  inevitable  sequence,1  in  that  proportion 
has  it  greater  power  over  the  affections  (passions).' 

The  Scholium  following  the  so-called  demonstration  is 
worth  quoting-  though  the  latter  part  of  it  is  somewhat  Spinoza's 

.   *  .  illustra- 

surprising  as  coming  from  a  man  who  is  said  to  have  sat  tionsof  his 
in   summer  evenings  on  the  door-steps  with  his  land- 
lady's children,  interesting  them  and  teaching  them  many 
things. 

'  In  proportion  as  this  recognition  that  things  are  linked 
together  in  inevitable  sequence  has  to  do  with  matters  of 
detail  which  we  conceive  very  distinctly  and  vividly,  in  that 
proportion  is  the  mind's  power  over  the  affections  greater  : 
which  experience  itself  attests.  For  it  is  matter  of  observa- 
tion 2  that  sorrow  over  a  possession  lost  is  assuaged  so  soon 

1  '  Res  omnes  ut  necessarian  intelligit.'  Tho  translation  of  Hale 
White  and  Stirling  has  ' understands  all  things  as  necessary.'  But 
the  last  word  has  so  many  connotations  in  English  that  it  seems  to  be 
insufficiently  exact  here.  At  any  rate,  the  phrase  substituted  above 
gives  Spinoza's  meaning. 

2  Vidtmus. 

N 


194  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

as  the  loser  reflects  that  by  no  possibility  could  the  possession 

have  been  preserved.     So  likewise  we  observe  that  no  one 

Strange       mourns  over  1  an  infant  because  it  cannot  speak,  walk,   or 

about8 1(  1   reason,  and  because,  farther,  it  lives  so  long  a  time  without 

infancy.       fu\\  self-consciousness.     But  if  most  infants  were  born  fully 

developed  while  only  one  here  and  there  were  born  as  a  babe, 

then  every  one  would  mourn  over  x  the  babes  ;  because  in 

that  case  the  infantile  condition  would  be  regarded  not  as 

natural  and  inevitable  but  as  a  defect  and  fault  of  Nature. 

And  we  might  note  many  other  cases  of  the  same  kind.' 

itssignifi-        Lovers  of  babies  and  children  as  they  are,  must  not 

cance  for  „  .  .,  .  ,  „     „ 

the  argu-  suppose  for  a  moment  that  this  great  lover  of  all  man- 
kind regarded  undeveloped  infancy  with  disgust.  For 
he  thought  everything  beautiful  in  its  season ;  indeed  he 
considered  every  object  in  the  Universe  as  perfect  within 
its  own  range.  But  if  the  reader  can  get  over  an  element 
of  grotesqueness  in  the  case  put,  he  must  recognise  the 
truth  of  the  lesson  taught.  For  if  Dogberry  had  been 
right,  and  ( reading  and  writing  came  by  nature '  to  all 
except  a  few  unfortunate  infants,  the  ignorance  which  we 
now  regard  with  complacency  because  it  is  inevitable, 
would,  if  it  were  exceptional,  be  treated  as  one  of  the 
mysteries  of  Providence.  We  are  not  to  let  our  atten- 
tion be  engrossed  by  the  fantastic  mode  of  putting  the 
case.  The  point  is  that  men  readily  reconcile  themselves 
to  the  inevitable,  but  accuse  Nature  when  they  fail  to 
recognise  inevitable  sequence. 
Distinction  At  this  point  it  may  be  well  to  protest  against  a  plaus- 
Fate  and  ible  but  groundless  inference  that  the  doctrine  here 
sequence,     taught  is  '  sheer  fatalism.'     Not  so  ;  for  fatalism  involves 

1  Miseretur,  miseret.     But  it  is  the  pain  involved  in  pity  that  is  in 
the  Master's  mind. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  195 

a  fixed  decree  made  by  some  mysterious  Power  beyond 
ourselves ;  a  decree  ruthlessly  carried  out  by  the  ministry 
of  external  causes  directed  by  that  Power,  and  over- 
ruling the  spontaneity  of  man.  But  this  is  not  the 
teaching  of  the  Master  at  all.  There  is  no  external 
power  overruling  our  destinies.  There  is  no  shadow  of 
fate  pursuing  us.  We  are  ourselves  part  of  the  eternal 
energy  that  moves  the  world.  And  if,  to  our  finite  in- 
tellect, all  existence  seems  to  consist  in  an  innumerable 
and  infinite  series  of  interwoven  sequences  in  which  we 
and  what  we  call  our  wills  have  place,  this  is  not  in 
the  least  inconsistent  with  the  spontaneity  which,  as  The  former 
Spinoza  insists,  is  the  only  reality  in 'free  will.'  For  the  latter 
when  we  do  what  we  would,  the  impulse  arises  within  taneity. 
our  own  divine  nature  and  is  not  forced  on  us  from 
without.  True,  this  impulse  has  its  antecedents,  rarely 
to  be  traced  far  back,  in  the  chain  of  invariable  sequences. 
But  that  does  not  interfere  with  our  consciousness  of 
spontaneity,  a  consciousness  which  is  no  fiction  but  most 
true  and  real.  On  the  other  hand,  when,  as  St.  Paul 
says,  '  the  thing  that  we  would  not,  that  we  do,'  we  are 
warped  by  external  influences,  and  do  not  act  spon- 
taneously at  all. 

The  use  made  by  Spinoza  of  this  doctrine  is,  of  course,\spinoza's 
to  urge  that  in  a  world  where  all  apparent  successions  doctrine!6 
are  linked  by  invariable  sequence,  passion  is  out  of  place, 
at  least  in  the  '  free  man.'  For  the  Master  holds  that 
the  free  man,  consciously  a  partaker  of  the  divine  nature, 
is  more  or  less — and  in  case  of  ideal  perfection,  entirely 
— shielded  from  the  impact  of  passion  by  the  sense  that 
all  things  are  of  God,  and  could  not  have  been  otherwise. 


196  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

impossible  of  course  the  obvious  retort  occurs  that  if  indeed  every  - 

of  adoption 

by  those      thing,  whether  bodily,  mental,   or   spiritual,  occurs   by 

who  want  . 

more  than    invariable    sequence,    all    this     intellectual    gospel    of 
ity.  freedom   is   vain,   and    exhortations    to   its    acceptance 

thrown  away.  And  to  those  who  are  not  satisfied  with 
the  freedom  of  conscious  spontaneity,  a  condition  in 
which  we  do  just  as  we  want  to  do,  though  our  will  is  a 
link  in  an  endless  series  of  untraceable  sequences,  I 
suppose  this  objection  must  still  be  final.  But  those  who 
But  not  in-  can   accept  the  doctrine  need  have  no  fear  that  it  is 

consistent  . 

with  moral  inconsistent  with  the  influence  of  exhortation,  warning, 
and  entreaty.  For  all  moral  influences  are  as  much  a 
part  of  the  web  of  invariable  sequence  as  are  eclipses  and 
tides.  In  fact,  Spinoza's  doctrine  leaves  the  phenomenal 
action  and  interaction  of  what  we  call  the  '  moral  world ' 
just  as  it  is  in  the  minds  of  the  many.  Hope  and  fear, 
aspiration  and  despair,  love  and  hate,  exultation  in  the 
right,  repentance  and  remorse  for  sin  remain  in  the  world 
as  conceived  by  Spinoza  precisely  as  they  do  in  the 
world  of  Christian  Endeavour  or  of  the  Salvation  Army. 
It  is  for  the  most  part  only  in  his  explanation  of  the 
ultimate  nature  of  such  moral  facts  that  he  differs  from 
church  teachers.  But  the  growing  incompatibility  be- 
tween the  world  as  it  is  and  the  world  as  conceived  by 
those  teachers,  seems  to  me  to  make  some  such  explana- 
tion as  his  to  be  religion's  most  pressing  need. 

The  propositions  immediately  following  are  the  last 

steps  leading  to  the  final  enunciation  of  the  main  thesis 

Main  thesis  of  the  whole  of  the  Ethics.     This  main  thesis  we  have 

Ethics.        already  anticipated,  thinking   that  the  purpose  of  this 

handbook  would  be  better  served  thereby.     But  we  may 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  197 

remind  ourselves  that  this  thesis  concerns  the  prevalence 
of  reason  through  the  attainment  of  a  distinct  conscious- 
ness of  our  divine  nature.  The  propositions  I  have 
described  as  last  steps  toward  that  goal  are  necessary,  as 
already  said  of  others,  to  the  completeness  of  Spinoza's 
'  demonstration.'      But  for  reasons   previously   given   I  Omission  0f 

LUGO!  6  LI" 

pass   them   by.      Our   practical   purpose   is   sufficiently  caiiy  neces- 
sary pro- 
secured  by  citation  of  the  following  : —  positions. 

1  So  long  as  we  are  not  oppressed  by  affections  (passions)  Prop.  x. 
hostile  to  our  (divine)  nature,  so  long  we  have  the  power  of 
ordering  and   arranging  our  bodily  affections  (passions)  in 
due  proportion  in  accordance  with  the  intellect.' * 

That  is,  affections  or  passions  are  bad  just  in  proportion  True  vision 

•  i  •  incompat- 

as  they  hinder  the  mind  from  seeing  things  as  they  are,  ibie  with 
or  in  their  due  proportions  to  the  Whole.     But  if  such 
evil  affections  or  passions  are  absent,  the  mind  is  serene, 
forming  clear  and  distinct  ideas.     Of  such  ideas  it  may 
be  said,  as  Tennyson  sang  of  blessed  spirits : 

'  They  haunt  the  silence  of  the  breast, 
Imaginations  calm  and  fair, 
The  memory  like  a  cloudless  air, 
The  conscience  as  a  sea  at  rest.; 

The  Scholium  to  this  proposition,  though  long,  is  so 
practical  that  it  must  be  quoted  entire. 

•  By  this  power  of  rightly  ordering  and  co-ordinating  the  Scholium, 
bodily  affections  we  are  able  to  secure  comparative  immunity  2    rop'  x' 
from  evil  passions.     For  more  force  is  needed  to  overcome 
affections  ordered  and  co-ordinated  in  due  proportion  accord- 
ing to  the  intellect  than  to  overcome  such  as  are  loose  and 

1  Secundum  ordinem  ad  intellect  um. 

2  Efficere  possumue,  ut  non  facile  mails  affectibus  ajjkiamur. 


198  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

vague.     Therefore  the  best  thing  we  can  do,  so  long  as  we 
lack  a  perfect  knowledge  of  our  affections,  is  to  conceive  a 
Need  of  a    right  rule  of  living,  or  definite  maxims  x  of  life,  to  commit 
these  to  the  memory,  and  regularly  to  apply  them  to  the 
particular  affairs  confronting  us  from  time  to  time  in  life ; 
that  so  our  imagination  may  be  thoroughly  saturated  with 
them,  and  that  we  may  have  them  always  at  hand.     For 
instance,  among  the  maxims  of  life  we  have  reckoned  this : 
that  Hatred  is  to  be  overcome  by  Love,  or  Generosity,  but 
not  to   be   balanced  by  reciprocal   Hatred.     But   that  this 
Value  of      prescription  of  Keason  may  always  be  at  hand  when  wanted, 
maxims.      we  mugt  think  of  and  often  meditate  upon  the  ordinary 
wrongs  of  the  social  state,  and  how  and  by  what  method 
they  may  best  be  warded  off  by  Generosity ;  for  thus  we 
shall  connect  the  spectacle  of  the  wrong  with  the  recollection  2 
of  this  maxim,  and  it  will  always  occur  to  us  when  wrong  is 
Overcoming  jone  to  us.     But  if  also  we  should  have  at  hand  a  rational 
good.  estimate  of  our  own  true  profit,  as  also  of  the  good  which 

attends  on  mutual  friendship  and  common  fellowship,  and 
likewise  (should  remember)  that  supreme  peace  of  mind  arises 
from  a  right  rule  of  living,  and  that  men,  like  the  rest  of 
things,  act  according  to  the  invariable  sequences  of  Nature ; 8 
then  the  wrong,  or  the  Hatred  which  usually  arises  from  it, 
will  have  a  very  slight  hold  on  the  imagination,  and  will  be 
easily  overcome.  Or  if  the  anger  usually  excited  by  the 
greatest  wrongs  should  be  not  quite  so  easily  overcome, 
still  it  will  be  overcome,  though  not  without  fluctuation  of 
mind,  in  a  far  shorter  time  than  it  would  have  been  had  we 
not  these  premeditated  maxims  at  heart. 

'To  the  strength  of  mind  needed  to  put  away  fear  the 
same  rules  apply.     That  is,  the  common  dangers  of  life  are 

1  Dogmata.  But  the  original  sense  of  the  word  is  obviously  out  of 
place  here.     What  la  meant  is  a  familiar  form  of  words. 

2  Imaginationi — simply  recollection  here. 

3  Ex  natural  necessitate.  But  there  is  no  notion  here,  or  anywhere 
in  Spinoza's  teaching,  of  compulsion  from  outside  Nature.  His  idea 
is  therefore  best  expressed  by  invariable  sequence. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  199 

to  be  reckoned  up  and  often  imagined,  and  (we  must  think)  No  freedom 

how  by  presence  of  mind  and  manliness  they  may  best  be  fortitude. 

avoided  and  overcome.     But  an  important  point  is  that  in 

ordering  our  thoughts  and  mental  images  we  should  always 

give  special  heed  to  the  good  features  in  everything,  so  that 

we  may  always  be  determined  to  action  by  an  affection  of 

joy.     For  example,  if  any  one  finds  himself  to  be  too  much 

set  upon  Glory,  let  him  meditate  on  the  just  use  of  Glory,  and  Think  on 

for  what  purpose  it  is  to  be  sought,  also  by  what  means  it  fj°°n  evil.61 

may  be  acquired.     But  let  him  not  reflect  on  its  abuses,  and 

its  emptiness,  and  the  fickleness  of  men,  or  other  topics  of 

this  kind,  since  about  these  no  one  thinks,  except  by  reason 

of  sickness  of  mind.     For  with  such  thoughts  excessively 

ambitious  men  do  most  afflict  themselves,  when  they  despair 

of  achieving  the  honour  they  are  seeking,  and  while  only 

spitting  forth  their  angry  disappointment  they  assume  the 

role  of  sages.1     Indeed  it  is  clear  that  those  who  are  most 

greedy  of  Glory  shout  the  loudest  about  its  abuses  and  the 

vanity  of  the  world. 

1  Nor  is  this  peculiar  to  the  ambitious,  but  it  is  a  common 
characteristic  of  all  to  whom  fortune  is  unfavourable,  and 
who  are  not  fortified  by  Reason.2    For  the  poor  man  also  who 
is  greedy  of  money  never  stops  speaking  about  the  abuse  of 
money  and  the  vices  of  the  rich ;  while  by  this  he  achieves  Beware  of 
nothing  but  to  make  himself  miserable  and  to  show  that  it  is  thattimu-11 
not  so  much  his  own  poverty  as  the  wealth  of  others  which  lates  virtue, 
disturbs  his  mind.     Thus  again,  those  who  have  been  coldly 
received  by  a  mistress  think  of  nothing  but  the  fickleness 
and  falsehood  of  women  and  other  commonly  quoted  vices  of 
the  sex.     But  all  this  is  forgotten  at  once  the  moment  they 

1  Dum  iram  evomimt  sapientes  videri  volunt. 
Animo  impotences  sun/.     The  literal  rendering,   'weak  in  mind,' 

does  not  give  the  connotation  to  be  gathered  from  the  whole  treatise. 
Keats  certainly  was  not  weak  in  mind,  but  he  was  scarcely  fortified 
by  reason,  when  ho  mourned  that  his  name  was  'written  in  water.' 
Many,  if  not  most,  of  the  kind  of  men  described  here  by  Spinoza  have 
been  conspicuous  for  mental  power. 


200 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Some  con- 
nective pro 
positions 
and  their 
bearing. 


Man  and 
God  the 
main  sub- 
jects of 
thought. 


are  again  welcomed  by  the  mistress.  Whoever  then  seeks 
to  regulate  his  affections  and  appetites  solely  by  love  of 
Freedom  Avill  endeavour  as  far  as  possible  to  recognise 
virtues  and  their  causes,  and  to  fill  his  mind  with  the  joy 
that  springs  from  their  true  appreciation.  But  he  will  shun 
the  contemplation  of  men's  vices,  and  will  abstain  from 
invectives  against  men,  and  will  take  no  pleasure  in  a  sham 
boast  of  liberty.  Whoever  then  will  assiduously  study  these 
lessons — for  indeed  they  are  not  difficult — and  will  practise 
them,  assuredly  that  man  will  within  a  short  space  of  time 
be  able  generally  to  direct  his  actions  by  the  dictates  of 
Reason.' 

The  next  three  propositions  are  perhaps,  like  others 
preceding,  more  necessary  to  the  intellectual  completeness 
of  the  Spinozan  system  than  to  the  practical  application 
of  his  doctrine ;  but  we  may  see  how  all  bear  upon  his 
basic  principle  that  the  freedom  of  man  depends  upon  a 
conscious  realisation  of  his  divine  nature, 

1  XL  In  proportion  as  a  mental  picture  (imago)  is  related 
to  a  greater  number  of  things,  in  that  proportion  is  it  more 
constant  and  claims  more  of  the  Mind's  attention.' 

For  instance,  the  mental  picture  of  the  human  form  is 
related  to  millions  of  individuals,  and  is  therefore  never 
out  of  our  minds.  But  the  thought  of  God  is  related 
to  absolutely  everything,  and  therefore  claims  perpetual 
attention. 

'  XII.  The  images  of  things  are  more  easily  united  to 
images  relating  to  things  clearly  and  distinctly  apprehended 
than  to  others.' 

In  the  'demonstration'  the  things  'clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly apprehended '  are  identified  with  '  common 
properties  of  things,'  such  as  are  gathered  by  reasoned 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  201 

experience  (Prop,  xl.,  Pt.  II.,  Schol.  2)  or  proper  deductions 

from   them.      E.g.    gravitation,  proportionate    chemical  Realms  of 

exact  and 

combination,  the  laws  of  motion  would  belong  to  the  of  inexact 

thought 

category  of  things  '  clearly  and  distinctly  apprehended,  defined. 
But  not  so  telepathy,  though  it  may  exist,  nor  the  sea- 
serpent,  nor  so-called  'miracles.'  The  reason  is  that 
these  latter  things  are  not '  common  notions ' ;  the  names 
may  be  in  thousands  of  mouths,  but  the  things  re- 
presented are  probably  not  identical  in  any  half-dozen 
minds.  The  outlook  of  the  Master  in  this  proposition  is 
toward  that  idea  of  God  which  is  the  summation  of  the 
whole  order  of  Nature.  For  an  infinite  number  {sit 
venia  verbo)  of  infinite  series  of  things  which  separately 
may  be  clearly  and  distinctly  apprehended  imply,  in  his 
view,  Infinite  Substance  consisting  of  an  infinity  of 
Attributes  subject  to  infinite  modifications. 

'  XIII.  In  proportion  as  a  conception  is  united  with  a 
greater  number  of  others  the  more  frequently  it  is  in 
evidence.'1     (Scepius  viget.) 

In  the  proof  of  this  we  are  referred  to  the  law  of  Power  of 
association  treated  in  the   First  Part.     If   a  number  of  especially 
impressions  are  made  together  at  any  one  time  upon  the  £  widely16 
mind,  then  if  at  another  time  one  of  these  impressions  *  irowu< 
recurs,  it  will  tend  to  revive  some  or  all  of  the  others 
which  formerly  accompanied  it  but  are  not  now  renewed 
from  without.     Thus  the  chamber  of  a  sick  man  makes 
many  impressions   upon   him — window,  table,  fireplace, 
pictures,  and  the  faint  odour  of  some  disinfectant.     The 

1  Note  that  this  proposition  differs  from  xi.  ahove  in  that  it  deals 
with  conceptions  or  mental  images  not  merely  related  to  but  'joined 
with '  others. 


202  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

whole  of  these  impressions  may  never  come  together 
again  from  the  same  external  surroundings.  But  the 
odour  of  that  particular  disinfectant  will  at  any  time 
recall  the  entire  scene  to  him.  Now  here  the  particular 
impression  of  an  odour  has  a  very  limited  set  of  associa- 
tions; and  so  with  the  sick-chamber  to  which  it  is 
Power  of  related.  But  now  take  the  conception  of  home.  The 
ciations.  familiar  chambers,  the  daily  outlook,  the  loved  forms  of 
wife  and  children,  the  kindly  mutual  service,  the  sense 
of  repose — all  this  is  so  widely  human  that,  wherever 
the  traveller  goes,  a  hundred  sights  and  sounds  call  up 
the  picture  of  what  he  has  left  behind.  No  meeting  of 
a  father  with  his  children  in  the  evening  but  reminds 
the  wanderer  of  his  own  life  at  home.  No  loving  inter- 
change of  word  and  look  between  man  and  wife  but 
recalls  the  un forgotten  image  of  her  who  is  far  away.  A 
glimpse  of  river  and  woodland  is  like  the  outlook  from 
his  door.  Some  child  Christ  or  girl  Madonna  of  a  picture- 
gallery  seems  to  his  transfiguring  affection  to  portray 
his  boy  or  girl  at  home.  In  fact,  the  idea  of  home  has 
such  universal  associations  that  it  is  recalled  at  any 
moment.  The  point  then  made  in  the  last -quoted 
proposition  is  that  the  more  numerous  the  objects  with 
which  any  conception  is  associated,  the  oftener  will  that 
conception  be  in  the  mind.  And  the  bearing  of  this 
upon  the  conception  of  God  is  obvious ;  for  that  should 
be  associated  with  everything.  Indeed  this  is  the  mean- 
ing of  the  proposition  following. 

4  XIV.  It  is  possible  for  the  mind  to  secure  that  all 
affections  of  the  body  or  the  images  of  things  shall  be  referred 
to  the  idea  of  God.' 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  203 

That  is,  all  that  we  feel  or  conceive  or  desire  shall  be 
consciously  harmonious  with  the  divine  Whole. 

In  what  has  been  said  so  far,  the  soul  developed  by  a  parting 
Christian  forms  of  devotion  can  find   many  points   ofp01 
agreement  and  feel  many  impulses  to  good.     But  as  we 
approach  the  final  application  of  the  principles  so  labori- 
ously expounded,  our  attitude  will  depend  very  much  on 
the  degree  in  which  we  can  put  truth  beyond  and  above  issue  de- 
every  other  consideration.     Now  this  is  an  effort  of  moral  unbiassed 
courage  not  quite  so  easy  as  it  seems.     It  would  indeed  truth! 
be  much  easier  than  it  generally  is,  if  only  we  were  free 
in  Spinoza's  sense,  that  is,  if  the  spontaneity  of  our  divine 
nature  were  not  subject  to  illegitimate  influence  from 
without.     There  are  cases  in  which1  eligible  brides  of 
high  birth  are  given  in  marriage  to  royal  religionists  of  illustration 
an  alien  church.     And  one  of  the  essential  conditions  marriages 
of  the  contract  is  that  the  wife  shall  conform  to  her  members 
husband's  faith.     Now  if  the  reception   of  the    distill-  °DtdCom- 
guished  convert  into  her  new  communion  were  avowedly  munions- 
a  legal  form   only,   involving   no   pretence  of  personal 
conviction,  it  might  perhaps  be  justified  by  expediency. 
But  it  is  not  so.     The  studious  preparation  under  the 
direction  of  spiritual  guides,  the  serious  examinations, 
and  the  final  declaration  of   personal  belief  make  the 
pretence  of   a  mere  legal  form  a  cloak  for  hypocrisy, 
unless  the  conversion  is  real,  which  I  can  well  believe  that  Conversions 
it  often  is.     For  the  experience  of  a  hundred  generations  are  often 
shows  that  it  is  difficult  or  impossible  to  analyse  fairly  aSysincere. 

1  It  may  be  as  well  to  state  that  this  was  written  some  time  before 
any  announcement  had  been  made  of  a  recent  royal  marriage  which 
has  been  the  subject  of  some  ill-natured  and,  as  I  venture  to  think, 
most  unjustifiable  criticism. 


204  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

the  state  of  mind  of  the  victim  of  such  conventions,  or  to 
follow  the  subtle  play  of  feelings  which,  after  many 
windings  in  '  sub-consciousness,'  finally  emerge  as  sincere 
belief.  Such  a  case  is  only  an  extreme  instance  of  the 
fact  that  the  wish  to  believe  will,  in  nine  instances  out 
of  ten,  or  perhaps  in  ninety-nine. cases  out  of  a  hundred, 
very  quickly  ensure  belief.  And  the  motives  tending  to 
facility  of  conviction  may  be  conspicuously  good.  For, 
apart  from  ordinary  human  love,  which  may  or  not  be 
involved,  the  peace  of  kingdoms,  profitable  intercourse 
between  nations,  the  welfare  of  millions  all  have  in  past 
times  been  involved  in  such  contracts,  or  at  any  rate 
were  seriously  thought  to  be  so.  And  for  a  wavering 
conscience  biassed  by  such  tremendous  issues  much 
allowance  must  be  made  if  the  worse  has  sometimes  too 
easily  been  allowed  to  seem  the  better  reason. 
The  digression  is  intended,  if  possible,  to  prevent  any 
Application  offence  being  given  by  our  words  above,  that  our  apprecia- 
motives  tion  of  Spinoza's  highest  teaching  will  depend  very  much 
agaSsi1?  on  the  degree  in  which  we  can  put  truth  beyond  and 
ofCpan-°n  above  every  other  consideration.  For  we  need  not  be 
theism.  weighted  with  responsibility  for  national  destinies  in 
order  to  realise  solemn  or  pathetic  motives  for  bias 
toward  particular  religious  dogmas.  The  recollection  of 
childhood's  prayers,  the  ineffaceable  impression  of  a 
father's  manly  faith,  the  echo  of  a  mother's  voice  as  she 
sang  of  the  '  wondrous,  blessed  Saviour,'  or  of  -  sweet 
fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood ' — all  are  spiritual  lines 
of  force  to  keep  us  within  the  halo  of  the  Cross.  And 
farther,  through  generations  of  tradition  and  years  of 
training  that   seemed  eternal,  our   souls   have  been  so 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  205 

impregnated  and  saturated  with  belief  in  a  personal  God 
made  after  the  image  of  humanity's  best  men,  and  with  a 
fanatical  repudiation  of  any  possible  morals  without  a 
future  Heaven  and  Hell,  that,  when  confronted  with  a 
denial  of  these  things,  we  fling  it  off  as  white  hot  metal 
repels  a  spray  of  cold  water-drops.  Now  it  is  obvious 
that  such  a  frame  of  mind  does  not  put  truth  beyond  and 
above  every  other  consideration,  because  it  only  lives 
after  the  tradition  of  the  fathers  and  has  taken  no  pains 
to  seek  and  find  for  itself. 

If  we   must,  at   all  cost  of  contradicting   earth   and 
heaven    and    history,   imagine   a   personal   God    acting 
toward  us  precisely  as  a  magnified  father  or  nurse  or  Truth  not 
teacher  would  do,  and  if  this  craving  is  regarded  as  the  termmed 
highest  utterance  of  reason,  there  is  no  use  in  attempting  y 
to  follow  teachers  like  Spinoza.     For  their  position  is 
that  cravings  cannot  determine  truth,1  and  that  if  we 
follow  truth,  even  against   the   clamour  of   unreasoned 
feeling,  we  reach  at  length  a  much  higher  life  than  that 
of  common  devotional  fervour.     But  if  it  be  asked  why  Nor  by 

individual 

should  we  follow  your  Spinoza  rather  than  our  prophets  men,  how- 

6V6T  STG&t. 

and  apostles  ?  we  can  only  reply,  we  do  not  pretend 
to  c  follow '  him  in  your  sense  of  the  word.  For  he  made 
no  claim  to  infallibility  or  to  any  monopoly  of  truth ;  and 
would  have  been  the  last  man,  as  Sir  Frederick  Pollock 
says,  to  wish  any  one  to  be  a  '  Spinozist.'  But  he  has 
much  to  teach  that  is  of  enormous  moral  and  spiritual 
value,  the  preciousness  of  which  we  cannot  appreciate 

1  See  an  incisive  article  in  the  Hibbert  Journal  for  October  1905, 
on  '  The  Inadequacy  of  Certain  Common  Grounds  of  Belief,'  by  Dr. 
J.  Ellis  M'Taggart.  The  reference  is  strictly  limited  to  the  par- 
ticular article. 


206  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

unless,  without  any  reserve  whatsoever,  we  put  truth 
beyond  and  above  everything  else.  On  this  understand- 
ing we  proceed. 

In  the  First  Part  of  the  Ethics  we  had  a  definition  of 
The  love      God  which  identifies  Him  with  the  Universe ;  or  all  that  is, 

of  God. 

was,  or  can  be.  This  is  perfectly  consistent,  in  Spinoza's 
Love  to  view,  with  the  possibility  of  that '  intellectual  love  toward 
God'  of  which,  with  the  purpose  of  making  plainer  the 
main  practical  objects  of  the  Fifth  Part,  I  have  partly 
treated  on  an  earlier  page.  I  now  give  in  its  entirety  the 
Proposition  (xv.)  enunciating  the  Master's  doctrine  : — 

'He  who  clearly  and  distinctly  understands  himself  and 
his  own  affections  loves  God,  and  all  the  more  in  proportion 
to  the  greater  clearness  of  his  understanding  thereof.' 

In  the  demonstration  we  are  referred  to  Proposi- 
tion liii.,  Part  m.,  which  declares  that  the  mind  re- 
The  propo-  joices  in  realisation  of  itself  on  its  active  side,  and  all 
toactivi-  '  the  more  as  it  more  distinctly  conceives  its  powers  of 
passions,  action.  We  must  not  suffer  ourselves  to  be  confused  by 
the  substitution  of  'affections'  in  the  new  proposition 
for  '  powers  of  action  '  in  the  former.  It  is  true  that 
1  affections '  may  include  '  passions,'  which  are  not  active 
but  passive.  We  have  already  learned,  however,  that 
an  affection  which  is  a  passion  ceases  to  be  a  passion  so 
soon  as  '  we  form  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  it.'  (Pro- 
position iii.,  Part  v.)  Therefore,  when  the  Master  here 
speaks  of  a  man  who  '  clearly  and  distinctly  understands 
himself  and  his  own  affections,'  he  means  a  man  who 
realises  his  own  powers  and  energies.  The  idea  is  not 
that  of  a  self-denying  hermit,  still  less  that  of  a  Corn- 
modus  or  Elagabalus.     It  is  that  of  a  man  of  action, 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  207 

who,  whether  the  thought  is  articulately  framed  in  his 
consciousness  or  not,  has  the  joy  of  sounding  a  clear  note 
in  the  grand  harmony  of  the  world.  It  is  that  of  a  great 
engineer  like  George  Stephenson,  of  a  great  statesman  like  Concrete 
Peel,  of  a  great  poet  like  Milton.1  For  all  such  men, 
though  reverence  may  forbid  vanity,  do  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly realise  their  own  powers.  And  in  so  far  as  their 
theology  allows  them  to  refer  all  to  God  in  whom  '  they 
live  and  move  and  have  their  being,'  their  realisation  of 
the  joy  of  life  is  always  accompanied  by  the  thought  of 
God,  whom  they  must  therefore  love.  But  the  purer 
their  theology,  the  more  intellectual  is  their  love,  and 
hence  the  freer  from  the  passions  that  have  polluted 
faith. 

It  may  be  said  that  such  men  are  few  and  can  reflect  Not  wholly 
little  light  upon  the  common  lot.     But  we  might  as  well  becanaeof 
say  that  the  laws  of  light  from  the  sun  are  inapplicable  ceptfonai 
to  the  light  from  a  glow-worm.      For   it   is   not   their character- 


c 


exceptional  brilliancy  or  strength  which  illustrates  the 
teaching  of  the  Master,  but  just  their  clear  and  distinct 
consciousness  of  active  faculty  and  the  place  it  gives 
them  in  the  divine  Whole.  But  precisely  such  clear 
and  distinct  consciousness  may  be  eujoyed  by  the  work- 
ing engineer  whose  hand  on  the  valve  wields  the  weight 
and  speed  of  a  rushing  train,  or  by  a  letter-carrier  who 
helps  the  intercourse  of  mankind,  or  a  newspaper  reporter 
who  makes  a  meeting  in  an  obscure,  smoke-grimed  town 
visible  and  audible  to  the  whole  civilised  world.  How- 
ever humble  we  may  be,  we  have  some  active  powers 

1  In  Spinoza'fl  sense  of  the  words  Milton  vr&8  a  man  of  action  even 
in  his  retirement  and  blindness. 


208  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

whose  exercise  may  be  for  the  good  of  all  around  us. 
And  if,  in  faithful  discharge  of  such  a  trust,  we  clearly 
and  distinctly  realise  ourselves  and  our  modest  activities 
as  of  God  and  in  God,  our  lives  may  be  a  continual 
hymn  of  praise,  not  indeed  in  the  childish  sense  of 
obsequious  homage,  but  in  the  sense  of  uttering  forth 
that  intellectual  love  which  rejoices  in  the  perfection  of 
the  Whole. 
The  intel-  This  love  toward  God,  says  the  Master,  ought  wholly 
of  God        to  possess  the  mind.1     For  when  once  we  realise  that  we 

should  have  n    .,  .  c    n     i  ,       r   ,1 

supreme      are  finite  expressions  of  God,  every  movement  ot  the 
to55nd.°f  bodv>  in  healthful  activity,  in  honest  industry,  and  in 
Prop.  xvi.    legitimate  pleasure,  is  in  the  mind  associated  with  the 
recognition  of  God  as  the  Whole,  of  which  our  joyful 
activity  is  part.     And  if  it  be  suggested  that  this  is  a 
mere  theoretic  love  which  never  had  and  never  can  have 
any  practical  power,  the  example  of  the  Master  himself 
is  a  sufficient  answer.     For  if  he  was,  as  Novalis  said,  a 
'  God-intoxicated  man,'  it  was  not  in  the  sense  of  any 
fanatic  zeal.     The  victims  of  ancient  or  modern  super- 
stition have  shrieked  and  torn  themselves,  or  chanted 
pious  blasphemies  when  their  god  has  entered  into  them 
through   mephytic  vapours  of  a   cave   or   through   the 
nervous  excitement  of  a  stifled  crowd  in  a  chapel;  but 
this,  man  was  possessed  of  God  as  are  the  starry  heavens 
or  the  calm,  deep  sea,  or  the  snowy  heights  in  Coleridge's 
The  doc-     vision  of  Mont  Blanc.     His  life  was  brief  and,  at  some 
by  the  life,  crises,  troubled  and  sorrowful.     Cast  out  of  the  synagogue 
and  cursed  with  a  frightful  curse  that  made  him  even  to 
his  own  kin  an  object  of  horror,  he  yet  retained  the 

1  Maxime  occupare. 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  209 

complete  self-control  to  which  vindictive  thoughts  are 
impossible.  His  life  was  so  short  that  his  doctrine  of 
God  and  Man  must  have  been  practically  completed 
within  his  own  thoughts  at  the  period  when  he  might 
truly  be  described  as  'destitute,  afflicted,  tormented.' 
Yet  this  '  intellectual  love  of  God '  not  only  sustained  his  '  By  their 

•  fruits  ye 

courage,  but  conquered  irritability  of  temperament  and  shall  know 
gave  a  sweetness  of  tone  to  his  soul  which  made  him 
beloved  by  the  humble  folk  and  children  among  whom 
he  made  his  home.  Nor  was  it  any  mere  self-abnegation 
that  kept  him  pure.  For  where  right  was  concerned  he 
could  assert  himself  in  the  law-courts,  and  then  instantly 
surrender  almost  all  that  justice  awarded  to  his  righteous 
claim.  And  though  brought  up  in  circumstances  of  con- 
siderable comfort,  he  could  for  the  sake  of  independence 
content  himself  with  the  wage  of  a  lens-grinder,  and 
refused  a  proposed  legacy  to  which  he  thought  others  had 
more  claim.  Enough  :  if  there  is  any  truth  in  the  saying 
1  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them,'  the  '  intellectual 
love  of  God '  was  to  this  Master  a  veritable  inspiration. 

The  utterances  of  saintly  devotion  and  aspiration  are 
often  tuned  in  the  key  of  human  passion,  and  the  rela- 
tions of  the  soul  and  its  Saviour  are  sung  in  words  taken 
from  the  vocabulary  of  earthly  lovers.  But  Spinoza, 
whose  love  to  God  endured  the  tests  we  have  described, 
will  not  permit  such  profanation.  For  no  sooner  has  he 
claimed  for  love  to  God  the  sole  dominion  of  the  mind 
than  he  hastens  to  teach  us  that  God  is  untouched  by  God  uu- 

i  i  no  i    i         r  /-i    •    p  -i  touched  by 

passion,  and  cannot  be  affected  by  Joy  or  Grief.     And  passion, 
there  is  added   a  corollary  that,  strictly  speaking,  God  Prop- 
neither  loves  nor  hates  any  one. 

o 


XV111. 

Milton's 
Satau. 


210  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

The  intellectual  love  of  God,  at  least  in  its  highest 
form,  has  assuredly  not  been  always  possible  to  men. 
But  even  when  they  could  not  love  as  they  ought,  Spinoza 

No  one        maintains  that  no  one  could  ever  hate  God.     He  did  not 

God!iate  know  that  about  the  very  time  when  he  wrote  these 
words,  a  poet,  of  whom  perhaps  he  had  scarcely  heard, 

Pf°P-  was  conceiving  an  Epic,  of  which  the  whole  plot  should 
turn  on  precisely  such  hatred  burning  in  an  archangel's 
soul.  It  must  be  conceded,  however,  that  even  to 
Milton's  imagination  such  a  conception  would  have  been 
impossible  had  not  his  theology  reduced  the  idea  of  the 
Eternal  to  that  of  a  stupendous  personality,  greater  indeed 
than  all  other  personalities,  yet  still  not  so  incommen- 

A  concep-    surable  with  them  but  that  jealousies  and  mutual  friction 

tion  impos-  ...  _Tr.  .  „ 

sibieto  should  be  possible.  Whereas  if  the  great  poet  could 
have  so  far  transcended  his  reputed  'Arianism'  as  to 
realise  that  ultimate  Being  must  needs  include  all  being, 
he  would  scarcely  have  ventured  on  so  hazardous  a  plot. 
Unless  indeed  his  intention  had  been  to  show  that  the 
myths  of  the  Hebrews  were  woven  out  of  human  warp 
and  woof,  precisely  like  those  of  the  Greeks,  and  were 
therefore  fit  material  for  similar  poetic  broidery. 

as  ex-  But  now  let  us  note  how  Spinoza  sustains  his  confident 

pounded  by  t  x 

Spinoza,      denial  that  any  one  could  ever  hate  God.     His  proof  is 
indeed  fine  spun  and  technical,  but  as  usual  has  common- 
p  sense  at  the  back  of  it.     '  The  idea  of  God  which  is  in  us ' 

xviii-  is  adequate  and  perfect.1     Therefore,  so  far  as  we  con- 

template God,  we  are  active,  not  passive.2     Consequently 

1  Prop,  xlvii.,  Pt.  II. 

2  'The  mind's  actions  {i.e.  spontaneous  activities)  spring  only  from 
adequate  ideas;  but  passions  {i.e.  passivity  to  undue  external 
influence)  depend  entirely  on  inadequate  ideas.'    (Prop,  iii.,  Pt.  in.) 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  211 

there   can   be   no  feeling   of   grief  having  the  idea  of 

God  as  its  correlate.     (Literally,  with  the  concomitant 

idea   of  God.)      That    is,   no    one    can    hold    God    in 

hatred.' 

The  practical  bearing  of   this  technical  and   abstract  Expiana- 

...        tion. 
argument  is  surely  not  far  to  seek.     For  it  is  impossible 

for  any  one  to  hate  the  whole  Universe.     If  a  pessimist The  Uni- 

■*  t        x  verse  ade- 

thinks  he  does,  it  is  because  he  is  fixing  his  mind  on  a  quateiy 

•  p  conceived 

part  only — as,  for  example,  on  the  incidence  of  death  and  cannot  be 
suffering  and  unequal  fortune.  That  is,  in  the  Master's 
way  of  putting  it,  the  pessimist  suffers  under  inadequate, 
confused  ideas — certainly  f  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts ' 
— and  therefore  he  is  passive  to  undue  influence  from 
without.  But  if  such  a  man  could  enlarge  his  thought 
so  as  to  get  a  more  adequate  idea  of  that  perfect  Whole 
in  which  the  subjects  of  his  confused  thought  are  neces- 
sary incidents,  his  feeling  would  be  changed.  Nay, 
supposing  him  to  see  things  as  they  are  eternally,  his 
inadequate  ideas  would  be  transfigured  into  intellectual 
love.  Or  if  it  be  said  that  a  Universe  which  involves  in 
its  necessary  sequences  much  mental  and  physical  suffer- 
ing must  be  bad,  or  at  best  imperfect,  the  answer  is  that 
such  an  argument  assumes  man  to  be  the  final  cause  of  a 
Universe  which  has  no  final  cause  at  all.  And  such  an 
assumption  is  surely  not  one  of  reason  but  of  passion. 
Whereas,  if  we  would  only  follow  out,  as  far  as  faculty 
allows  us,  the  maze  of  sequences  by  which  the  things  of 
which  we  complain  do  as  a  matter  of  fact — without  being 
designed  or  intended  for  it — maintain  natural  order  and, 
if  we  may  so  speak,  keep  the  Universe  together  as  an 
eternal  Whole,  we  should  to  some  extent  understand  the 


212  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

causes  of  sin  and  sorrow;  and  Reason  would  take  the 
place  of  Passion. 
A  hard  it  seems,  however,  a  hard  saying  that  he  who  loves  God 

saying. 

Prop.  xix.  cannot  strive  to  have  God's  love  to  him  in  return.  But 
according  to  the  Master  such  an  endeavour  would  be 
contrary  to  the  preceding  proposition  that  God  cannot  be 
touched  by  passion,  and  therefore  cannot  love  or  hate. 
Many  Churches  have  indeed  authoritatively  pronounced 
that  God  is  '  without  body,  parts,  or  passions.'  But  they 
have  not  dared  to  be  consistent  in  the  application  of  their 
creed.  Spinoza  therefore  makes  no  innovation  in  doctrine 
on  this  point.  His  only  distinction  is  that  he  consist- 
ently adheres  to  what  he  says.  For  he  maintains  that 
for  a  man  to  desire  that  God  should  personally  love  him 
is  only  a  proof  that  the  man  does  not  love  God ;  because 
it  is  a  wish  that  the  Eternal  should  cease  to  be  God. 

Practical         Let  us  try  to  put  the  truth  more  plainly,  if  with  less 

meaning. 

severe  accuracy  than  the  Master.  When  a  man  desires 
that  God  should  love  him,  he  thinks  of  God  as  outside  of 
him,  a  separate  personality  whose  favour  he  would  win. 
But  such  a  thought  is  utterly  and  fundamentally  opposed 
to  Spinoza's  central  doctrine  that  God  is  not  some  one 
separate  from  us,  but  our  essence  and  completion.  As 
'parts  and  proportions'  we  may  very  well  love  and 
worship  the  '  wondrous  Whole ' ;  for  to  our  finite  Mode  of 
existence  the  joy  we  have  in  the  Universe  is  accom- 
panied by  the  idea  of  an  external  cause,  the  majesty  of 
heaven  and  earth.  But  the  idea  of  the  Whole  severally 
considering  and  loving  the  'parts  and  proportions'  is 
much  too  anthropomorphic ;  for  it  suggests  a  conscious- 
ness located  in  a  brain  and  contemplating  its  body,  a 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  213 

conception  absolutely  inconsistent  with  Spinoza's  doctrine 
of  God. 

And  yet  though  this   particular  suggestion  must  be  In  wnat 

J  .  .  sense  we 

condemned  as  misleading,  there  is  surely  a  sense  in  which  may  still 

•  -n  it  t  •     •     think  of  an 

we  may  triumph  in  an  Eternal  Love  toward  us.  This  is  eternal  love 
indicated  in  a  brief  passage  toward  the  end  of  the  book 
(Prop,  xxxvi.,  Coroll.) :  { God,  inasmuch  as  He  loves  Him- 
self, loves  men ' ;  because  men  are  parts  and  proportions 
of  God ;  '  and  consequently  the  Love  of  God  toward  men, 
and  the  intellectual  Love  of  the  Mind  toward  God,  are 
one  and  the  same.'  For  the  Infinite,  at  least  to  our  com- 
prehension, is  compact  of  innumerable  parts  which  all 
draw  toward  each  other.  Gravitation,  cohesion,  chemical 
affinity  in  the  physical  world ;  sympathy,  brotherhood, 
the  enthusiasm  of  Humanity  in  the  spiritual  world,  are 
symbolic  of  forces  beyond  our  imagination  which  keep  all 
things  eternally  One.  And  by  their  means  we  sometimes 
attain  heights  of  contemplation  from  which  the  inspira- 
tion of  Love  that  saved  Coleridge's  Ancient  Mariner 
represents  a  grander  mood  than  mere  love  of  bird  or  beast 
or  man.  It  is  a  sense  of  all  things  working  together  in 
a  perfection  beyond  our  thoughts.  And  of  the  blessed 
influences  here  implied  we  are  as  much  the  objects  as 
star  or  flower,  landscape  beauty  or  human  genius.  The 
complacency  of  the  Universe  in  its  self-awareness,  the 
love  of  God  toward  Himself,  as  Spinoza  has  it,  includes 
us  in  its  embrace,  and  that  is  enough. 

These  lessons  on  the  soul's  supreme  good  are  concluded 
by  a  declaration  of  the  spotless  purity  and  broad  human 
sympathies  that  always  attend  it.     For  '  this  love  toward  The  true 
God  cannot  be  soiled  by  any  passion  of  envy  or  jealousy  ; 


214  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Prop.  xx.  "but  the  more  men  we  conceive  to  be  united  to  God  by 
the  same  bond,  the  more  is  this  love  strengthened.' 
1  Lord,  are  there  few  that  be  saved  ? '  asked  one  of  the 
followers  of  Jesus,  a  question  suggestive  of  a  desire  to 
magnify  the  preciousness  of  salvation  by  the  extent  of  its 
contrasted  denial  to  the  many.  Such  was  not  the  spirit  of  Jesus, 
spirit  of      though  it  is  said  that  He  made  the  question  a  text  for  an 

Tertullian.  °  x 

exhortation  to  each  man  to  make  his  calling  and  election 
sure.  But  Tertullian  represented  in  himself  too  truly 
the  tendency  of  the  Church  when  he  described  the  spec- 
tacle of  Hell  as  heightening  the  ecstasies  of  Heaven. 
The  better  We  must  not,  however,  forget  or  minimise  the  generous 

spirit  ot  a  ° 

our  own  sympathies  of  later  churchmen,  especially  in  our  own 
day,  who  have  striven  to  interpret  the  opinions  of  aliens 
and  heretics  as  being  fundamentally  identical  with  the 
orthodox  faith.  But  assuming  the  creeds  to  be  true,  and 
the  Bible  to  be  or  contain  'God's  Word  written,'  such 
efforts,  generous  though  they  may  be,  are  a  severe  strain 
on  veracity  and  common- sense.  For  the  emphasis  laid 
by  the  creeds  on  a  right  belief,  an  emphasis  often  taking 
an  imprecatory  form,  makes  the  appreciation  of  any  good- 
ness apart  from  right  belief  consciously  inconsistent  and 
halting.  It  is  only  Spinoza's  '  intellectual  love  of  God,' 
which,  like  a  clear  sunny  sky,  can  receive  and  transform 
and  adorn  the  clouds  of  sacred  myth  and  even  the  smoke 
of  superstition,  so  that  we  may  come  to  love  them  as 
they  are  transfigured  there.  The  laboured  faith  of  Augus- 
tine, the  bright  common-sense  and  kindly  feeling  of 
Chrysostom,  Wesley's  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  are, 
no  less  than  the  altruism  of  Agnostics  and  the  increasing 
mysticism  of  Science,  germs  of  a  higher  religion  which 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  215 

only  find  their  final  fruition  in  the  intellectual  love  of 
God  as  All  in  All. 

In  the  Scholium  following  the  above  proposition,  but 
which  for  our  purpose  it  is  not  necessary  to  quote  here, 
the  Master  tells  us  that  he  has  now  completed  his 
doctrine  of  salvation  from  the  Passions,  and  that  he  will 
proceed  to  treat  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.     This  is  Concerning 

r  J  lmmortal- 

not  indeed  his  phrase ;  for  the  thesis,  as  announced  by  ity. 
himself,  is  this  :  that  the  human  mind  cannot  be  utterly  Prop. 

xxiii. 

destroyed  with  the  body,  but  something  of  it  remains 
which  is  eternal.  Yet  after  all,  the  subject  which  he 
does  discuss  is  that  commonly  described  as  the  immortal- 
ity of  the  soul. 

Here  occur  three  propositions  dealing  with  that  per-  Rfe^ons 
plexing   antithesis   between   man  as  mortal 1   and  man  and  soul. 
under  the  aspect  of  eternity,  which  has  puzzled  the  most 
sympathetic  students  of  the  Master.     I  will   first  quote 
the   propositions  and   then   give   my  own  view  of  the 
meaning. 

1  Prop.  XXI.  The  mind  cannot  imagine  anything  nor  can  it 
remember  past  events  except  while  the  Body  continues  to 
exist.' 

Now  the  whole  spirit  and  purpose  of  Spinoza's  teaching  Notmateri- 

alistic. 

forbids  us  to  tolerate  for  a  moment  anything  like  a 
'  materialistic '  interpretation  of  these  words.  For  as  the 
*  demonstration '  shows,  the  proposition  depends  on  the 
theory  that  the  mind  and  the  body  are  each  respectively 
correlated  finite  modes  of  two  Attributes — Thought  and 
Extension — each    of  which  expresses   the   same   divine 


More  properly — man  as  a  finite  group  of  apparent  successions. 


216  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Substance.     They  are  therefore  the  same   thing    under 
different  aspects. 

The  Body        « pr0p#  XXII.     Nevertheless  there  is  necessarily  given  in 

as  a  divine  .  *   ° 

idea.  God  an  idea  which  expresses  the  essential  being  of  this  and 

*v     the  other 1  human  Body  under  the  aspect  of  eternity.' 

For  '  God  is  not  only  the  cause  of  the  existence  of  this 
and  the  other  body ' — i.e.  an  appearance  in  temporal  suc- 
cession— '  but  also  of  its  essential  being,  which  must,  of 
course,  be  conceived  through  God's  own  essential  being,' 
and  that  because  it  is  involved  therein  by  a  kind  of 
eternal  necessity.2  But  this  proposition  will  be  better 
discussed  in  connection  with  the  following. 

'Prop.    XXIII.     The   human   Mind   cannot  be   entirely 
V/    destroyed  with  the  Body,  but  of  it  something  remains  which 
is  eternal.' 

To  get  at  the  common-sense  underlying  these  transcen- 
dental utterances  we  must  recall  the  Master's  doctrine 
The  truth  that  between  Eternity  and  Time  there  exists  no  relation 
Eternity,  at  all.  They  are  absolutely  incommensurable.  Eternity 
is  not  '  everlasting  duration/  nor  is  Time  a  fragment  of 
Eternity.  As  to  duration,  it  is  impossible  to  explain  it 
except  by  the  illusions  3  necessarily  involved  in  finite  con- 
sciousness.3   But  all  philosophers  and  even  contemplative 

1  I.e.  as  I  understand  it,  each  several  human  body  has  its  own 
several  divine  idea — or  rather  is  that  idea. 

2  The  latter  words  are  a  paraphrase,  and  not  a  rendering  of  idque 
cetema  quadam  necessitate.  But  I  think  I  give  the  meaning.  For 
we  are  referred  to  Prop.  xvi. ,  Pt.  I. ,  which  teaches  that  by  necessity  of 
the  divine  nature  an  infinite  number  of  things  in  infinite  variety — that 
is,  all  things  within  the  scope  of  infinite  thought — must  arise. 

3  It  is  a  very  hasty  and  utterly  baseless  criticism  on  such  a  view  of 
finite  consciousness,  to  say  that  it  'makes  all  life  a  lie.'  Illusions  may 
be  relatively  true.    Thus  a  '  straight  staff  bent  in  a  pool '  is  really  bent 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  217 

poets  have  generally  agreed  that  to  the  thought-attribute 
— or  self-awareness — of  God  there  can  be  no  temporal 
succession.    To  say  that  Infinite  Being  lives  in  an  'eternal  Fallacy  of 

an  'eternal 

.Now  may  be  equally  futile.  For  the  notion  is  generated  now.' 
by  our  experience  of  a  constant  transition  from  past  to 
future,  and  proverbially  represents  nonentity.  For 
'  Now '  perishes  when  we  think  of  it.  Nevertheless, 
though  Eternity  may  be  to  us  only  a  dim  but  great  sur- 
mise of  truth,  necessities  of  thought  compel  us  to  believe 
that  in  the  self-awareness  of  the  Eternal  all  things  that 
we  call  past  and  present  exist  at  once.  And  therefore  all 
Bodies  and  all  Minds  of  endless  generations  are  unbe- 
gotten  and  imperishable  ideas  in  Infinite  Thought.  Now 
this  consentaneous  being  of  all  ideas  at  once  is  real,  while  Yetetemity 
the  succession  of  generations  is  an  illusion  of  finite  con- 
sciousness.    And  it  is  this  reality,  unattainable  to  mortal  wnile  time 

is  made  up 

thought  except  in  some  momentary  ecstatic  glimpse,  of  illusions, 
which  the  Master  has  in  view  when  he  speaks  of  Body 
and  Mind  c  in  the  aspect  of  eternity.'  It  is  likely  enough 
that  this  may  bring  small  comfort  to  those  who  insist  that 
the  everlasting  duration  of  a  finite  '  self '  is  an  essential 
condition  of  bliss.  But  for  many,  and  for  a  rapidly  in- 
creasing number,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  know  that  while 
their  illusive  duration  is  as  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  they 
are  eternal  in  the  thought  of  God. 

so  far  as  sight  is  concerned,  and  the  artist  so  renders  it.  Only  when 
the  apparently  bent  staff  has  to  be  seized  or  handled  below  the  water 
must  a  correction  bo  made.  But  the  relative  truth  of  the  illusions  of 
finite  consciousness  has  an  indefinitely  wider  range,  and  their  relative 
truth  can,  within  that  range,  always  he  verified.  It  is  only  when 
dealing  with  matters  transcending  sensuous  experience, but  not  wholly 
beyond  the  interests  of  Reason,  that  the  fact  of  those  illusions  be- 
comes clear. 


218 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


F.  D. 

Maurice 
on  eternal 
life. 


1  Flower 
in  the 
crannied 
wall.' 


Prop.  xxv. 
Pt.  L,  Cor. 


The  doctrine  of  the  late  F.  D.  Maurice  and  of  other 
more  or  less  orthodox  Christians  on  the  subject  of  eternal 
life  is  clearly  allied  to,  if  not  influenced  by,  this  teaching 
of  Spinoza.  For  it  insists  on  an  incommensurable  differ- 
ence between  eternity  and  time.  Not  only  so ;  but  devout 
holders  of  this  doctrine  have  been  entirely  indifferent  to 
the  attractions  of  a  narrower  heaven.  For  the  supreme 
blessedness  according  to  them  is  to  'lay  hold  on  eternal 
life/  and  to  live  it  now.  The  duration  of  the  limited  self 
is  then  a  matter  of  quite  secondary  import.1 

To  this  view  of  eternal  life  everything  is  a  mani- 
festation of  God,  and  therefore  '  the  more  we  understand 
individual  objects  the  more  do  we  understand  God.' 
(Prop,  xxiii.)  This  follows  from  the  truth  enunciated 
in  Part  I.,  that  '  individual  things  are  nothing  but  affec- 
tions or  Modes  of  the  divine  Attributes,  by  which  God's 
Attributes  are  expressed  in  a  particular  and  limited 
manner.'  And  Tennyson  might  have  had  the  above  pro- 
position in  mind  when  he  wrote  his  often-quoted  lines  to 
the  flower  in  the  crannied  wall : 


1  But  if  I  could  understand 
What  you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all, 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is  ! ' 

Yet  how  many  have  quoted  with  delight  this  mystical 

and  musical   lyric  without  ever  suspecting  its  essential 

Pantheism ! 

The  fane-        But  in  order  that  this  religious  contemplation  of  indi- 

tionof  &  r 

intuition  in  vidual  objects  may  attain  the  vision  of  God,  it  is  neces- 

our  Weltan- 
scliauuny , 

1  To  labour  this  point  further  here  would  be  out  of  place ;    but  I 

maybe  permitted  to  refer  to  The  Religion  of  the  Universe,  Macmillan 

and  Co.,  1004. 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  219 

sary  that  we  should  grasp  things  by  the  third  kind  of 
knowledge,  that  is,  by  intuition.   c  The  highest  attainment  Prop.  xxv. 
of  the  mind   and   its  supreme  virtue  is  to  understand 
things  by  the  third  kind  of  knowledge.'     Now,  of  course, 
it  would  be  absurd  to  attribute  to  a  man  of  such  scienti- 
fic attainments  as  made  him  the  valued  correspondent  of 
the  foremost  scientists  of  his  time  the  crude  notion  that 
intuition  can  dispense  with  the  labour  of  research.    Jiut  \s 
what  he  meant  was  that  the  recognition  of  ourselves  and 
all  things  as  'parts  and  proportions  of  one  wondrous 
Whole  '  is  moE£~akin  to  the  insight  by  which  we  grasp  a  ( 
universal  truth  than  to  the  logical  process  of -induction.  ) 
For,  he  adds,  '  the  apter  the  mind  is  to  understand  things  hop.  xxvi. 
by  this  third  kind  of  knowledge  the  more  does  it  desire   J 
to  understand '  them  so.     That  is,  it  is  a  habit  of  mind  / 
which  consistently  sees  things  in  their  divine  relations. 
And  then  he  tells  us  that  '  from  this  thirdJdnd_of_know-  Perfect 

■ peace. 

ledge  springs  supreme  contentment  of  the  mind.'     The  Prop, 
religious  faith   here  involved  may  be  better  discussed 
farther   on   under   the   final  propositions   of    the  book. 
Meantime,  whether   the  'demonstration'  satisfies  us  or 
not,  it  is  well  to  take  note  of  it. 

'  The  supreme  virtue  of  the  Mind  is  to  know  God  or  to 
understand  things  by  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  (intuition). 
And  this  virtue  is  all  the  greater  in  proportion  as  the  Mind 
has  a  fuller  knowledge  of  things  by  this  kind  of  knowledge. 
Therefore  he  who  knows  things  by  this  kind  of  knowledge 
passes  into  the  highest  perfection  of  man.  Consequently  (by 
the  previous  definition  of  joy)  he  is  affected  by  supreme  Joy 
which  is  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  himself  and  his  own 
virtue.  Accordingly  from  this  kind  of  knowledge  springs 
the  most  perfect  peace  that  can  be  given.' 


220  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Points  to         Here  note  that  the  knowledge  of  God  is  treated  as 

be  noted  ° 

in  the         simply  another  phrase  for  the  intuition  of  things  as  they 

above.  , 

are — in  eternity,  of  course,  and  not  m  time.  Note  again 
that '  the  idea  of  himself  and  his  own  virtue '  is  not  to  be 
taken  as  suggestive  of  vanity  or  self-complacency.  For 
throughout  the  Ethics  man  is  treated  as  having  no  real 
self  but  God — i.e.  as  a  finite  modification  of  divine 
Attributes  expressing  the  divine  substance.  The  '  idea 
of  himself  and  his  own  virtue'  is  therefore  equivalent 
to  the  realisation  of  his  place  in  the  divine  nature. 
Again,  the  word  'virtue'  is  not  to  be  confined  to  its 
English  connotations ;  for  it  includes  fulness  of  spiritual 
life,  and  moral  force.  These  observations  may  help  us 
when  we  consider  the  practical  application  of  the  truth. 

The  next  four  propositions  (xxviii.-xxxi.)  may,  for  our 

purpose,  be  passed  over  with  a  mere  mention  of  their 

general  bearing.     For  while  necessary  in  the  Master's 

view  to  the  Euclidean  process  of  his  argument,  they  do 

not  obviously  help  the  religious  application  we  have  in 

The  tem-     view.     They  turn  upon  the  doctrine  that  all  things  may 

eteraai       be  regarded  either  under  a  temporal  aspect,  which  has 

things.  °     only  relative  truth,  or  under  the  aspect  of  eternity,  that 

is,  their  unity  in  God.     We  then  come  to  Proposition 

xxxii. : — 

'  We  delight  in  whatever  we  understand  by  the  third  kind 
of  knowledge  (intuition),  and  our  delight  is  accompanied  with 
the  idea  of  God  as  its  cause.' 

No  one  can  deny  that  there  is  force  in  the  brief 
'demonstration.'  From  this  kind  of  knowledge  arises 
the  highest  possible  contentment,  that  is  (by  a  previous 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  221 

definition),  Joy,  and  this,  moreover,  accompanied  by  the  j^$?Jnof 
idea  of  one's  self,  and  consequently  accompanied  by  '  the  alld  its 

9,Sp6CI» 

idea  of  God  as  its  cause.'      That  is,  every  one  who  sees  toward 

.  eternity 

clearly  a  universal  truth,  even  if  it  be  only  mathematical,  and  God. 
but  much  more  if  it  be  moral,  finds  a  keen  intellectual 
pleasure  in  it.  This  pleasure  is  inevitably  accompanied 
by  joy  in  the  consciousness  of  possessing  such  a  power, 
and  the  mind  accustomed  to  see  all  things  under  the 
aspect  of  eternity  necessarily  refers  both  power  and  joy 
to  its  true  self  in  God.  The  corollary  here  also  has  an 
obvious  bearing  on  religion. 

1  From  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  necessarily  springs  the 
intellectual  love  of  God.  For  from  this  kind  of  knowledge 
springs  Joy  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  God  as  its  cause, 
that  is  to  say,  the  love  of  God,  not  as  though  we  regarded 
Him  as  present,  but  in  so  far  as  we  realise  His  eternity  ;  and 
this  is  why  I  call  the  love  of  God  "intellectual." ' 

We  are  then  told  that  '  this  intellectual  love  of  God  is 
eternal '  (Proposition  xxxiii.) — that  is,  unrelated  to  time 
or  succession.  Then  the  Master  seems  to  bethink  him 
that  this  '  intellectual  love '  might  to  some  appear  incon- 
sistent with  his  definition  of  Love  as  '  Joy  accompanied  ^mtions 

by  the   idea   of  external   cause.'     For  God  is  not  '  an  fckras. 

•     vi- 
external  cause,'  nor  has  He  'presence'  such  as  a  finite 

external  cause  can  have.  True,  the  epithet '  intellectual ' 
should  guard  against  any  confusion  with  temporal  passion. 
But  then  how  can  an  eternal  love,  having  neither  begin- 
ning nor  end,  be  called  by  the  same  name  as  a  passion 
that  seizes  us  like  a  magic  spell  and  to  which  the  sweet 
uncertainties  of  hope  and  fear  seem  essential  ?  For 
answer  a  Scholium  is  added  : — 


222  ETHICS  OF  SriNOZA 

'Although  this  Love  toward  God  has  had  no  beginning, 
yet  it  possesses  all  the  perfections  (charms) 1  of  Love  just  as 
though  it  had  an  origin,  as  we  supposed  just  now.2  Nor  is 
there  any  difference  except  that  the  Mind  has  possessed  as 
eternal  those  perfections  which  we  have  supposed  to  accrue 
to  it,  and  has  possessed  them  with  the  accompanying  idea  of 
God  as  the  eternal  cause.  Now  if  Joy  consists  in  the  passage 
to  a  greater  perfection,  surely  Blessedness  must  consist  in 
this,  that  the  Mind  is  endowed  with  perfection  itself.' 

Hoping  that  the  difficulties  of  this  utterance  may  be 
at  any  rate  alleviated  by  concluding  remarks  to  follow, 
I  pass  on.  Anxious  to  keep  his  doctrine  of  eternal  life 
apart  from  the  carnal  notion  of  immortality,  the  Master, 
in  another  proposition  (xxxiv.),  shows  that  only  in  con- 
nection with  the  body  in  its  temporal  aspect  (durante) 
can  the  Mind  be  subject  to  passions;  and  he  adds  a 
Scholium : — 

4  If  we  regard  the  ordinary  opinion  of  men  we  shall  see 
that  they  are  conscious  of  the  eternity  of  their  Mind,  but 
that  they  confuse  this  with  duration  and  identify  it  with  the 
imagination  or  memory  supposed  to  remain  after  death.' 

Our  Love        Let  us  take  together  the  two  following  propositions 

His  i°oveSto  (xxxv.  and  xxxvi.),  for  the  latter  is  the  complement  of  the 

Himself.      formerj  an(j  united  they  throw  perhaps  as  much  light  as 

^         our  half-opened  spiritual  eyes  can  receive  on  eternal  life 

and  eternal  love. 

1  God  loves  Himself  with  an  infinite  intellectual  love.' 

1  The  intellectual  love  of  the  Mind  toward  God  is  the  very 

1  Perfecliones ;  but  what  arc  the  perfections  of  Love  unless  its 
charms  which  bind  us  in  delight  ? 

2  In  the  corollary  quoted  above. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  223 

love  with  which  God  loves  Himself,  not  in  so  far  as  He  is 
infinite,  but  in  so  far  as  He  can  be  manifested  through  the 
essential  being  of  the  human  mind  viewed  under  the  aspect 
of  eternity.1  That  is  to  say,  the  intellectual  love  of  the 
Mind  toward  God  is  part  of  the  infinite  love  with  which  God 
loves  Himself.' 

Perhaps  the  best  way  of  dealing  with  these  grand  but 
difficult  utterances  will  be  to  offer  a  paraphrase  which  a  para- 
must  go  for  what  it  is  worth,  though  I  think  it  presents  offered. 
in  contemporary  forms  of  thought  the  real  meaning  of 
the  Master.  At  the  very  beginning  of  this  work  we 
remarked  that  our  difficulty  in  understanding  Spinoza 
often  arises  from  an  erroneous  assumption  that  be  is 
using  language  familiar  to  theologians  in  approximately 
their  sense  of  the  terms.     And  this  is  the  case  here ;  for  Earthly 

rLSSOP13.tlOT1^ 

divine  love — whether  of  man  to  God  or  God  to  man —  lin^erm^ 
is — with   reverence  be   it  spoken — commonly  supposed  JJJvinc 
to   have   something  in  it  akin   to  earthly  passion.     To love' 
what  an  extent  this  was  carried  even  among  the  most 
spiritual  of  the  Hebrews  is  well  known  to  students  of  the 
Prophets.     And  though  Christianity  exercised  a  highly 
refining  influence,  yet  something  of  the  old  earthly  asso- 
ciations remained.     For  St.  Paul  was  not  averse  to  pic- 
turing the  union  of   the  saints  and  their  Saviour  as  a 
betrothal.     And  in  Revelation  the  marriage  supper  of  the 
Lamb  is  thought  a  fitting  emblem  of  the  blessed  consum- 
mation of  Christ's  work. 

But  against  any  such  misinterpretation  Spinoza  guards  Excluded 
by  the  saving  epithet  'intellectual,'  which  is  applied  first  0pi^heet  cin. 
to  man's  love  toward  God,  and  by  implication  to  the  love  tellectua1-' 

1  Be  it  remembered  that  this  essential  behiL'  is  in  God. 


224  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

of  God  for  Himself,  including  man.1  If  it  be  asked  how 
can  Love  be  intellectual  ?  the  reply  is  that  the  phrase  is 
an  adaptation  of  language  to  a  transcendental  idea,  or  let 
us  say  a  modus  loquendi.  For  the  word  Love,  with  its 
associations  of  admiration  and  satisfaction,  and  warmth  of 
sentiment  and  self-devotion,  comes  nearest  to  what  Spinoza 
wants  to  express.  But  its  other  connotations  of  passion 
— in  the  sense  of  passivity — and  exclusive  or  peculiar 
possession  of  the  beloved  object,  and  longing  for  reci- 
procal exclusive  love,  must  be  shut  out.  Therefore  it  is 
that  he  uses  the  epithet  '  intellectual.' 
Blessedness      The   idea  thus   becomes   that  of  a  joyful  and   even 

of  peace  .  .  .  . 

with  the  triumphant  contemplation  of  the  Universe  as  a  living 
Whole,  one,  undivided,  indivisible  and  eternal;  perfect 
as  a  Whole,  and  therefore  perfect  in  every  part.  It  is 
even  perfect  in  ourselves,  if  we  could  see  things  aright. 
Because  though  it  has  not  its  being  for  us,  that  is,  to 
gratify  our  whims,  or  even  to  fulfil  our  inadequate  ideals, 
yet  one  way  or  another,  even  in  our  faults  and  pains,  we 
do  our  infinitesimal  part  toward  making  the  infinite  Per- 
fection what  it  is.  But  the  advantage  of  the  free  man 
over  the  unfree,  or  slaves  of  passion,  is  that  he  does  this 
willingly,  as  an  '  adequate  cause,'  not  trespassing  beyond 
the  divine  thought  of  himself  into  the  divine  thought 
of  other  things  which  are  incomplete  except  upon  an 
infinite  survey. 

This  Love  '  There  is  nothing  given  (existent)  in  Nature  that  is 
SeT       contrary  to  this  intellectual  Love  or  which  could  cancel 

1  '  Hence  it  follows  that  God  in  so  far  as  He  loves  Himself  loves 
men,  and  consequently  that  the  Love  of  God  toward  men  and  the 
intellectual  love  of  the  Mind  toward  God  is  one  and  the  same  thing.' 
(Prop,  xxxvi.,  Coroll.) 


s 


1111 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  225 

it.'  (Prop,  xxxvii.)  For  proof  the  Master  is  content 
to  say  that  '  this  intellectual  Love  follows  inevitably 
from  the  nature  of  the  Mind  in  so  far  as  that  nature  is 
considered  as  eternal  truth  in  and  through  the  nature  of 
God.'  If,  therefore,  anything  were  conceivably  able  to 
cancel  it,  the  result  would  be  to  make  that  false  which, 
by  hypothesis,  is  eternally  true.  Which  is  absurd.  If 
we  are  unaffected,  as  probably  we  are,  by  such  a  '  proof,' 
may  it  not  be  because  we  are  even  yet  insufficiently 
possessed  of  the  Master's  Gospel  that  we  are  one  with 
God  ?  With  a  curious  sensitiveness  to  any  apparent 
break  in  the  long  chain  of  his  argument,  Spinoza  here 
recalls  the  axiom  in  Part  iv.,  which  assumes  that  '  there 
is  no  individual  thing  in  Nature  which  is  not  surpassed 
in  potency  by  some  other  individual  thing'  capable  of 
destroying  it.  But  that  axiom  he  now  tells  us  does  not 
affect  the  impregnable  persistence  of  the  intellectual 
Love  of  God ;  for  this  is  neither  individual  nor  temporal, 
and  that  axiom  obviously  referred  to  individual  things  in 
their  relation  to  time  and  place. 

The  Master  now  recalls  his  promise,  given  in  Part  IV., 
Prop,  xxxix.,  Schol.,  to  say  more  on  the  problem  of  Problem  of 
death.  Those  who  insist  on  personal  immortality  accom- 
panied by  a  persistent  sense  of  identity  cannot  derive 
from  his  words  any  support  for  their  hope.  '  In  propor- 
tion as  the  Mind  understands  a  greater  number  of  things 
by  the  second  and  third  kind  of  knowledge  '  (viz.  reasoned 
experience,  i.e.  induction,  and  intuition),  'in  that  propor- 
tion does  it  suffer  less  from  the  passions,  which  are  evil, 
and  the  less  does  it  fear  death.' 

I  shall  try  to  paraphrase  the  proof  and  a  following 

v 


226  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Scholium.     The  second  and  third  kinds  of  knowledge, 

especially  the  third,  or  intuition,  confront  us  with  eternity 

as  incommensurable  with  time.     But  the  more  we  realise 

the  eternal  life  of  the  Universe  or  God,  a  life  in  which 

we  share,  the  more  constant  is  our  better  nature  against 

Death         the  assaults  of  passion.     Not  only  so,  but  the  more  we 

only  our      realise  God's  eternal  life  the  less  important  do  our  inci- 

to  the         dental  and  temporal  interests  in  the  world  of  succession 

succession,  appear  to  be.     Or,  in  other  words,  what  remains  of  us  is 

of  far  more  import  than  what  seems  to  perish  in  death. 

Therefore  it  is  well  to  cultivate  those  kinds  of  knowledge 

which  confront  us  with  eternity.     On  this  we  can  only 

say, '  he  that  is  able  to  receive  it,  let  him  receive  it.'     The 

same  thing  has  had  to  be  said  of  other  gospels  in  times 

long  past.     But  this  involved  no  admission  either  of  their 

falsehood  or  of  their  inadequacy  to  the  needs  of  a  more 

fully  evolved  mankind. 

Again,  taking  up  the  apparently  dropped  threads  of 
Religious     earlier  argument,  the  Master  now  shows  that  a  variously 

value  of  a  .  -- .     - 

mobile  and  mobile  and  adaptable  body  is  not  only  useful  to  temporal 

adaptable          ' — - "Z  '.      ._  ...      1    " 

body.  needs,  as  shown  in  Part  iv.,  rrop.  xxxvm.,  but  that  it 
makes  for  a  better  appreciation  of  eternal  life  and  leaves 
less  to  perish  at  death.  The  argument  is  that  to  which 
we  are  now  so  much  accustomed.  As  said  before,  we 
are  not  to  leave  out  of  account  the  nervous  system  and 
brain  when  interpreting  the  meaning  of  a  variously 
mobile  and  adaptable  body.  Eemembering  this,  we  may 
well  agree  that  such  a  body,  to  which  on  Spinoza's  theory 
the  Mind  corresponds,1  will  be  a  good  instrument  for  the 

1  That  is,  as  a  correlated  finite  Mode  of  another  divine  Attribute, 
that  of  Thought. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  227 

work  of  the  Mind  in  controlling  evil  passions  according 
to  the  rule  of  the  intellect,  and  of  referring  all  bodily 
affections  to  the  idea  of  God.  Thus  the  love  of  God 
takes  possession  of  the  Mind,  and  whatever  that  Love 
possesses  belongs  to  eternity. 

In  asking  whether  any,  and  if  so  what  amount  of, 
comrnon-sense  is  at  the  root  of  such  speculations,  wejiad 
better  not  givejtoo  rigid  anjLntopjetatifln  to  the  Master's  V 
doctrine  of  the  higher  mind  and  its  outlook  on  eternity. 
For  thousands  have  preferred  noble  aims  to  mean  ones  How  far 
and  a  larger  spiritual  to  a  lesser  and  lower  good,  who  actual  life, 
would  have  been  shocked  had  they  been  suspected  of 
sharing  Spinoza's  views  of  religion.  And  it  will  be 
found  that  among  such  men  a  considerable  majority 
possessed  a  physical  constitution  of  great  mobility  and 
adaptability.  The  statesman  whose  disappearance  in  the 
last  year  of  the  last  century  left  a  blank  not  yet  filled, 
was  admired  by  professional  judges  of  the  human  frame 
even  more  for  his  physical  than  for  his  mental  gifts.1 
This  is  not  the  place  to  pursue  such  a  question ;  I  only 
suggest  that  there  is  more  in  the  Master's  theorem  than 
airy  speculation.  The  following  Scholium  may  help  to 
confirm  the  suggestion ;  and  the  idea  of  education  with 
which  it  concludes  is  well  worth  attention  in  these  times. 

'  Since  human  Bodies  are  susceptible  of  very  many  adap- 
tations,   wc    cannot   doubt    the   possibilit}T   of    their   being 

1  Apparent  exceptions  arc  not  always  really  such.  There  i 
pathos  in  the  recollection  that  ]5enediet  <lc  Spinoza  himself  suffered 
as  an  invalid  during  a  considerable  part  of  his  short  life  and  died 
prematurely  of  consumption.  But  his  perfect  mastery  <>f  a  delicate 
handicraft  showed  that,  notwithstanding  disease,  he  possessed  a 
variously  mobile  and  adaptable  body. 


228  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Body  and  correlated  with  Minds  which  have  a  large  knowledge  of 
ftafree  themselves  and  of  God,  and  whose  greatest  or  characteristic l 
man.  part  is  eternal,  so  that  they  scarcely  fear  death  at  all .     But 

to  make  this  plainer,  be  it  here  noted  that  we  live  in  a 
course  of  incessant  change,  and  according  as  we  are  changed 
for  the  better  or  the  worse  we  are  said  to  be  happy  or 
unhappy.  For  he  who  from  an  infant  or  a  boy  is  changed 
into  a  corpse  is  called  unhappy.  On  the  contrary,  if  we  are 
enabled  to  live  through  the  whole  period  of  life  with  a  sound 
Mind  in  a  sound  Body,  that  is  counted  as  happiness.  And 
truly  he  who  like  an  infant  or  a  child  has  a  Body  adapted  to 
very  few  uses  and  mainly  dependent  on  external  causes,  has 
a  Mind  which,  considered  in  itself  alone,2  has  scarcely  any 
consciousness  of  itself  or  of  God  or  of  surrounding  things. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  who  possesses  a  Body  adapted  to  very 
many  (actions)  has  (also)  a  Mind  which,  considered  in  itself 
alone2  has  a  large  consciousness  of  itself  and  God  and  of 
surrounding  things.  In  this  life,  therefore,  we  endeavour  as 
soon  as  possible  that  the  Body  of  infancy,  so  far  as  its  nature 
permits,  and  so  far  as  is  consistent  with  health  (ei  conducit), 
shall  be  changed  into  another  Body  such  as  may  be  adapted 
to  many  uses,  and  may  be  correlated  to  a  Mind  as  fully 
conscious  as  possible  of  itself  and  of  God  and  of  surrounding 
things;  the  ultimate  aim  being  that  everything  concerned 
(merely)  with  its  memory  of  self  or  fancy  shall  in  comparison 
with  its  intellect  be  of  little  consideration.' 


1  Proicipua  ;  but  the  notion  is  not  so  much  what  is  obviously  chief 
or  conspicuous  as  what  makes  the  contemplative  mind  that  which  it 
is.  Skilful  movements,  strenuous  action,  successes  in  management 
are  temporal — of  the  season,  the  hour,  or  the  moment.  But  that 
which  is  characteristic  of  the  great  mind  is  the  outlook  beyond  narrow 
surroundings,  or,  as  Spinoza  says,  on  eternity.  As  to  their  attitude 
toward  death,  the  reference  is  not  to  any  lingering  dread  of  '  the 
King  of  Terrors,'  but  rather  to  the  apprehension  of  annihilation.  It 
is  this  that  almost  vanishes  when  they  realise  how  much  of  them  is 
eternal  as  being  one  with  God. 

2  That  is,  apart  from  the  impact  of  external  impulse,  or  slavery  to 
habit  and  routine. 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  229 

In  interpreting  these  last  words  it  must  be  remembered 
that  for  Spinoza  'intellect'  was  not  a  mental  logic- 
chopping  machine,  but  the  higher  nature  which  sees 
things  as  they  are.  Imaginatio,  which  I  have  here 
rendered  '  fancy/  was  to  him  a  process  of  fictitious 
image-making,  a  travesty  of  things  as  they  are.  And 
the  memory  of  which  he  speaks  as  nothing  worth  is  self- 
centred  always,  hovering  about  one's  own  achievements 
and  feelings.  If  this  be  borne  in  mind  we  shall  be  no 
longer  shocked  by  his  exaltation  of  that  '  intellect '  in 
which  the  love  of  God  is  enshrined. 

Still  dwelling  upon  the  Mind's  eternity  apart  from 
personal  immortality,  the  Master  supports  his  idea  with 
the  following  proposition  (xl.). 

1  In  proportion  as  each  thing  has  more  of  perfection,  in  Perfection 
that  proportion  it  is  the  more  active  and  the  less  passive  ;  activity, 
and  contrariwise,  the  more  it  is  active  the  more  perfect  it  is.' 

We  have  learned  as  early  as  the  beginning  of  Part  II.  Perfection 

•  •  n.         depends  on 

that  perfection  means  reality,  that  is,  identity  with  God,  reality. 
not  necessarily  as  infinite  but  as  forming  by  a  modifica- 
tion of  some  Attribute  the  essence  of  the  'creature.' 
Again,  activity  does  not  mean  fussiness  or  even  busy-ness, 
but  spontaneity  free  of  external  compulsion.  Suffering, 
too,  may  be  more  than  passive.  The  martyrs  were  never 
more  truly  active  in  Spinoza's  sense  than  when  giving 
their  lives  for  the  faith.  What  the  above  proposition 
means,  therefore,  is  that  the  more  the  Mind  realises  its 
place  in  Clod,  the  less  is  it  passive  to  external  influences 
and  the  more  spontaneous  are  its  functions.  And 
contrariwise,  the  more  spontaneous  its  functions  are,  the 
more  does  it  realise  its  place  in  God. 


230  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Case  of  For  illustration  let  us  a<?ain  have  recourse  to  Socrates, 

Socrates.  ° 

though  many  Christian  worthies  would  serve  our  purpose, 
did  not  their  use  endanger  misunderstanding.  Socrates 
was  not  a  Pantheist,  and  yet  his  spontaneity  and  his 
sense  of  divine  inspiration  or  suggestion  throw  light  on 
the  Master's  words  here.  He  fulfilled  the  above  idea 
of  activity  as  contrasted  with  passivity,  because  his 
spontaneity,  or,  if  we  prefer  the  word,  his  originality,  was 
unenslaved  by  any  external  influence.  He  was  and 
would  be  himself ;  and  this  in  virtue  of  the  divinity  he 
believed  to  speak  to  his  soul.  That  is  to  say,  his  activity 
involved  reality,  and  this  Spinoza  identifies  with  per- 
fection. 

Farther,  in  a  corollary  we  are  told  that  the  perfect,  or 
real  or  eternal,  part  of  the  soul  is  the  intellect,  by  which 
alone  we  act  spontaneously.  But  the  part  that  perishes 
must  be  the  fancy,  the  weaver  of  fictions  through  which 
alone  we  are  said  to  be  passive.  Whatever  there  is  of 
intellect,  it  has  more  perfection  (or  reality)  than  the 
fancy. 
The  The  consummation  of  the  Master's  moral  teaching  is 

supreme  .  .    .  . 

ideal  reached  in  two  final  propositions  concerning  the  measure- 

less worth  of  goodness  in  itself  altogether  apart  from 
arbitrarily  attached  rewards  or  punishments  either  in 
this  temporal  life  or  in  any  other  supposed  to  succeed  it. 

not  first      The  doctrine  declared  is,  of  course,  not  original,  nor  in 
pro- 
pounded     any  way  specially  characteristic  of  Spinoza.     For  it  is  to 

'  be  found  here  and  there  throughout  the  Bible  and  most 

notably  in  the  words  of  Jesus.     Thus  the  hardest  duty 

imposed  by  him  on  his  followers,  'Love  your  enemies, 

bless  them  that  curse  you,'  is  enforced  only  by  the  purely 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  231 

ideal  motive,  l  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  The  words 
Father  who  is  in  heaven ' :  which  reminds  us  of  Spinoza's  compared, 
teaching  about  the  inherent  blessedness  of  the  eternal 
life  lived  here  and  now.  Again,  when  the  sublime  exhor- 
tation is  added,  'Be  ye  therefore  perfect  even  as  your 
Father  in  heaven  is  perfect/  there  is  no  suggestion  of  any 
reward  save  the  glory  of  realisation.  It  is  true  indeed 
that  Jesus,  speaking  not  like  the  seventeenth-century  Jew 
to  the  elect  and  cultured  few,  but  to  the  suffering  and 
ignorant  many,  often  made  use  of  the  traditional  hopes 
and  fears  into  which  he  was  born,  and  which  certainly 
had  their  place  among  his  sincere  beliefs.  But  it  is 
abundantly  clear  that  to  himself  goodness  was  heaven 
and  vice  was  hell  here  and  now.  The  same  lofty  ideal 
glimmers  here  and  there  in  later  parts  of  the  New 
Testament,  especially  in  the  writings  attributed  to  St. 
Peter  and  St.  John.1  It  is  impossible  perhaps  to  suppress 
a  regret  that  the  active  and  successful  apostle,  of  whom  The  con- 
we  know  the  most,  failed  sometimes  to  imitate  the  stVaui. 
spiritual  elevation  of  his  Master  in  this  respect,  and 
even  suffered  himself,  in  a  moment  of  argumentative 
heat,  to  suggest  that  if  there  were  no  personal  resurrection 
the  old  despairing  cry  would  be  right  which  said,  '  Let  us 
eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.' 2 

Yet  though  there  is  nothing  in  the  slightest  degree  The  value 

<~i    •  >  .of  goodness 

novel  or  peculiar  to  himself  m  spinozas  final  assertion  for  its  own 
of  the  measureless  worth  of  goodness  apart  from  reward  tudly  in-  " 
for  its  achievement,  or  punishment  for  its  neglect,  yet  spinoza's 
it  is  of  great  interest  to  see  how  appropriate  the  doctrine  Et  1CS' 

1  Of.    1    Pet.    i.    15,   22,   23;    ii.    15-20;    iii.    17;     2  Pet.    i.   5-9; 
John  xvii.  3,  22,  23;  etc.  etc.  -  Isaiah  xxii.  13,  etc. 


232  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

is  as  the  topstone  of  his  laboriously  constructed  temple 
of  Ethics. 

1  Even  if  we  did  not  know  that  our  Mind  is  eternal,  yet 
we  should  regard  as  of  supreme  importance  Piety  and  Re- 
ligion, and  everything  whatever  which  in  the  Fourth  Part 
we  showed  to  be  correlated  with  strength  of  Mind  and 
Generosity.' 

implied  in  The  proof  consists  simply  in  recalling  the  high  inter- 
trine  of  pretation  put  in  the  earlier  Parts  on  self-preservation. 
vation,eSer  It  is  the  higher  self,  as  recognised  by  Reason,  that  is 
to  be  preserved,  not  the  lower  self  swayed  by  passion. 
And  the  claims  of  Generosity  and  strength  of  Mind  as 
factors  in  the  higher  self  were  maintained  altogether 
apart  from  questions  of  time  or  immortality.  They 
therefore  remain  independent  of  either. 

The  Scholium  appended  to  the  above  is  not  very 
attractive,  but  it  is  of  interest : — 

'  The  ordinary  creed  of  the  multitude  seems  to  be  different. 
For  most  people  appear  to  believe  that  they  are  free  only  so 
far  as  they  are  allowed  to  yield  to  lust,  and  that  to  whatever 
extent  they  are  bound  to  live  by  prescription  of  divine  law 
to  this  extent  they  give  up  their  independence.1  Piety, 
therefore,  and  religion,  and  everything  whatever  correlated 
with  strength  of  Mind,  they  regard  as  burdens  which  they 
hope  to  shake  off  at  death  and  to  receive  the  reward  of  their 
slavery,  that  is,  of  their  Piety  and  Religion.  Nor  is  this 
hope  alone  their  inducement,  but  also,  and  more  particularly, 
in  living  so  far  as  their  frivolity  and  feebleness  of  mind 
allows,  according  to  the  prescriptions  of  divine  law,  they  are 

1  De  suo  jure  cedere — the  phrase  'give  up  their  rights'  may  be 
more  literal,  but  scarcely  gives  the  spirit  so  well.  Besides,  to  be  'sui 
juris'  is  to  be  independent. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  233 

actuated  by  fear  of  being  punished  with  dreadful  torments 
after  death.  And  if  men  were  not  pervaded  by  this  hope 
and  fear — if,  on  the  contrary,  they  thought  that  Mind  and 
Body  perished  together — that  there  remained  no  longer 
existence  for  wretches  weary  of  the  burden  of  Piety,  they 
would  return  to  their  natural  bent,  they  would  take  lust  as 
the  only  guide,  and  would  prefer  the  chances  of  fortune  above 
(their  better)  self.  Now  this  seems  to  be  not  less  absurd 
than  for  a  man,  because  good  food  will  not  preserve  his  body 
for  ever,  to  betake  himself  rather  to  poisons,  and  stuff  himself 
with  deadly  potions.  Or  it  is  as  if,  because  a  man  finds  the 
Mind  to  be  neither  eternal  nor  immortal,  he  should  therefore 
prefer  to  be  a  fool  and  to  live  without  Reason.  But  all  this 
is  so  absurd  that  it  scarcely  deserves  consideration.' 

The  warmest  admirers  of  this  Master  must  wish  that 
he  had  not  written  the  above  Scholium.     It  is  true  he 
does  not,  like  St.  Paul,  appear  to  sanction  the  ignoble 
maxim,  '  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.'  a  caveat 
But  he  attributes  this  meanness  to  the  vast  majority 
of  mankind.     And  one  wonders  how  many  he  expected 
to  influence  by  his  noble  Ethics.    Nay,  we  cannot  believe 
that  the  kindly,  gentle  soul  who  could  descend  from  the 
solitary  chamber  of  his  sublime  musings  and  talk,  at 
the  evening  meal,  with  landlady  and  children  about  the 
church  service,  and  the  sermon  of  the  day,  or  even  lesser 
interests  of  their  daily  life,  could  regard  as  mercenaries 
and  cowards  the  good,  humble  people  who  loved  him. 
Such  a  thought  could  not  have  been  true  then,  and  it 
is    not   true   now.      The   fact  is   that   Spinoza's  valgus,  Spinoza's 
or  multitude,  think  very  little  indeed  either  of  death  or  frJakof 
what    comes   after    it.      From    the   pulpit   or    religious  tiona,gm 
platform  we  may  occasionally — though  much  more  rarely 
than  of  old — hear  very  emphatic  or  even  lurid  language 


234  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Average      on  such  subjects.     But  it  is  only  hysterically  inclined 
humanity 

wholly  in-  hearers  who  are  much  disturbed  by  it.  The  vast 
majority,  perhaps  ninety-five  out  of  every  hundred,  go 
home  to  their  dinner  or  their  supper  and  enjoy  their 
meal  with  as  healthy  an  appetite  as  though  they  believed 
neither  in  heaven  nor  hell. 

Besides,  medical  men  and  other  attendants  on  the 
dying  know  that  not  two  out  of  a  hundred  are  ever 
troubled  by  fears  of  a  world  to  come.  To  what  then  is 
the  average  good  conduct  and  kindliness  of  the  vast 
majority  of  the  multitude  to  be  attributed  ?  It  is  un- 
deniable that  religious  traditions  have  a  certain  influence. 
But  it  is  only  so  far  as  these  traditions  fall  in  with  the 
course  of  moral  evolution  that  advances  almost  inde- 

Proximate  pendently  of  them.     And  the  course  of  this  moral  evolu- 

causes  of      x  ^ 

average      -tion  proceeds  from  experience  of  utility  to  contentment 

goodness. 

with  results  of  useful  maxims ;  and  from  contentment 
with  results  to  the  formation  of  a  standard ;  and  from 
the  formation  of  a  standard  to  the  slow  crystallisation  of 
an  ideal,  which  is  not  wholly  wanting  among  the  '  multi- 
tude,' but  reaches  effulgence  only  in  solitary  souls  like 
Spinoza.  The  uncultured  good  people,  the  ordinary 
church  and  chapel  goers  who  lustily  sing  about  heaven 
on  the  Sunday  and  honestly  mind  their  business  during 
the  week  without  much  thought  of  things  supernal,  have 
their  ideals,  though  these  may  be  dim  and  veiled.  Let 
any  one  propose  to  them  a  mean  trick  in  trade,  or 
treachery  to  a  friend,  and  it  will  soon  be  proved  that 
they,  no  less  than  Spinoza,  though  within  a  narrower 
horizon,  value  goodness  for  its  own  sake  without  the 
slightest  reference  to  heaven  or  hell. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  235 

Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter ;  for  it 
is  given  in  a  nobler  tone. 

'  Blessedness  is  not  the  reward  of  virtue,  but  virtue  itself ; 
nor  do  we  rejoice  in  that  blessedness  because  we  subdue  our 
lusts ;  but  contrariwise,  it  is  because  we  rejoice  in  it  that  we 
are  therefore  able  to  subdue  our  lusts.' 

The  proof  is  as  follows  : — 

'Blessedness  consists  in  Love  toward  God,  which  Love 
springs  from  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  (intuition);  and 
therefore  this  Love  is  correlative  with  the  Mind  in  as  far  as 
the  latter  is  active ;  and  accordingly  it  is  Virtue  itself.1  This 
was  the  first  thing  (to  be  proved).  Next,  in  proportion  as 
the  Mind  exults  more  in  this  divine  Love  or  Blessedness,  in 
that  proportion  it  understands  the  more,  that  is,  it  has  the 
greater  power  over  the  affections  and  also  suffers  the  less 
from  evil  affections.  Thus  it  is  because  the  Mind  rejoices  in 
this  divine  Love  or  Blessedness  that  it  has  the  power  of 
restraining  lusts.  And  because  man's  power  of  controlling 
his  lusts  is  the  prerogative  of  intellect  alone,  therefore  no 
one  exults  in  blessedness  as  a  consequence  of  controlling  the 
affections,  but  contrariwise,  the  power  of  controlling  the 
affections  springs  from  blessedness  itself.' 

'  Thus  I  have  finished  all  that  I  had  wished  to  set  forth 
concerning  the  power  of  the  Mind  over  the  affections  and 
concerning  its  freedom.  From  all  this  clearly  appears  the 
surpassing  worth  of  the  Wise  man  as  compared  with  the 
ignorant,  who  is  driven  by  lust  alone.  For  the  lattei 
besides  being  distracted  by  a  host  of  external  influences,  and 

1  Because  by  Def.  viii.,  Pt.  iv.,  Virtue  and  Tower  arc  identical,  i.e. 
power  of  effecting  such  things  as  can  be  accounted  for  by,  or  find  their 
adequate  cause  in,  man's  (divine)  nature  alone.  I  interpolate  (divine) 
because  wherever  Spinoza  speaks  of  a  finite  being's  own  nature,  he 
means  the  Mode  or  modification  of  divine  Attributes  which  constitutes 
the  essence  of  that  finite  being. 


23G 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


constantly  deprived  of  true  contentment  of  soul,  lives  also 
without  a  true  sense  of  himself,  of  God,  and  of  the  world,  and 
at  what  moment  he  ceases  to  suffer  he  also  ceases  to  be. 
Whereas  the  Wise  man,  so  far  as  he  is  (rightly)  considered 
such,  is  rarely  shaken  in  mind ;  but  being  conscious  of 
himself  and  of  God  and  of  the  world  in  an  aspect  of  eternal 
necessity,  he  never  ceases  to  be,  but  for  ever  enjoys  true 
contentment  of  soul.  If  now  the  path  which  I  have  indicated 
to  such  an  attainment  should  seem  very  hard,  yet  still  it  can 
be  found.  And  indeed  it  must  be  hard,  since  it  is  so  rarely 
discovered.  For  if  salvation  were  ready  to  hand,  and  could 
be  found  without  much  trouble,  why  should  it  be  neglected 
by  almost  all  mankind  1  But  all  noble  attainments  are  as 
difficult  as  they  are  rare.' 


An  appar- 
ent incon- 
sistency 


found  also 
in  the 
Christian 
Gospel. 


Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  while  acknowledging  with  pro- 
found sympathy  the  exalted  moral  tone  of  these  final 
words,  observes  that  '  in  their  literal  sense  they  are  not 
quite  consistent '  with  the  Scholium  to  Proposition  x.  of 
this  Part.  For  there  we  are  told  that  '  whoever  will 
assiduously  study  these  lessons — for  indeed  they  are  not 
difficult — and  will  practise  them,  assuredly  that  man  will 
within  a  short  space  of  time  be  able  generally  to  direct 
his  actions  by  the  dictates  of  Reason.'  Whereas  here  it 
would  appear  that  the  very  arduousness  of  the  pathway 
to  the  life  of  Eeason  explains  why  '  few  there  be  who 
find  it.'  In  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  however,  as  indeed  the 
last-quoted  words  remind  us,  there  is  a  strictly  analogous 
appearance  of  inconsistency  susceptible,  as  I  shall  suggest, 
of  a  like  explanation.  For  we  are  told  on  the  one  hand 
that  the  most  suitable  subjects  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven 
are  little  children  and  child-like  men  and  women,  an 
instruction  certainly  suggesting  that  the  entrance  to  that 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  237 

kingdom  is  c  indeed  not  difficult.'  And  this  is  confirmed 
by  the  saying,  '  My  yoke  is  easy  and  my  burden  is  light.' 
Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  told  '  strait  is  the  gate 
and  narrow  is  the  way  which  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few 
there  be  that  find  it.'  Nay,  '  many  will  seek  to  enter  in 
and  shall  not  be  able.'  Now,  whatever  be  the  various 
theological  interpretations  of  the  '  strait  gate,'  no  one,  so 
far  as  I  am  aware,  has  held  that  it  is  in  any  way  incon- 
sistent with  the  facility  of  entrance  promised  to  the  child- 
like and  the  meek.  The  only  difficulty  is  found  in  the 
average  moral  condition  of  mankind,  which  indisposes 
them  to  '  strive  to  enter  in,'  and  which  indeed  sometimes 
plucks  them  back  when  they  are  half-way  through  the 
gate.  But  the  difficulty  is  not  in  the  gate :  it  is  in  the 
half-heartedness  of  the  would-be  pilgrims. 

Perhaps  the  same  explanation  in  principle  is  applicable  The  life  of 
to  the  apparent  inconsistency  between  the  two  passages  its  strait 
in  this  Part  of  the  Ethics.  For  in  the  former  passage ga 
comparative  ease  of  entrance  on  the  life  of  reason  is  con- 
ditional on  assiduity  of  thought  and  diligence  in  practice. 
If  only  those  be  given,  any  man  may  '  in  a  short  space 
of  time  be  able  generally  to  direct  his  actions  by  the 
dictates  of  Reason.'  Yes ;  but  there  is  here  too  a  '  strait 
gate.'  Inadequate  ideas  must  be  abandoned,  or  at  least 
appreciated  at  their  true  worth.  There  must  be  a  sincere 
and  earnest  craving  for  salvation  from  passion.  There 
must  be  a  total  surrender  of  self-assertion  beyond  the 
limits  of  that  finite  Mode  of  the  divine  Attributes  which 
is  our  essence  and  only  being.  No  wonder  then  that  in 
his  mournful  remembrance  of  the  aversion  of  Man  in 
every  age  to  heroic  moral  endeavour  the  Master  should 


238  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

in   his   last  words  magnify  the  need  of  earnestness  if 
freedom  is  to  be  attained.1 
Does  Much  harder  to  interpret  are  those  sentences  in  the 

Spiuoza 

teach  'con-  epilogue,  which,  if  the  idea  were  not  so  utterly  contrary 

ditional  im-  .  .  ,  ..  n  .    . 

mortality'?  to  Spinoza  s  whole  philosophy,  might  at  first  sight  appear 
to  have  anticipated  a  doctrine  very  popular  some  thirty 
or  forty  j^ears  ago,  and  known  as  f  conditional  immortality.' 
For  we  are  told  that  the  ignorant  man  (i.e.  the  slave  of 
passion)  ceases  to  exist  when  he  ceases  to  suffer,  whereas 
the  wise  man  (i.e.  the  free  man)  never  ceases  to  exist. 
Now,  to  get  the  right  point  of  view  here,  we  must 
remember  the  Master's  reiterated  warning  against  our 
inveterate  confusion  of  eternity  with  infinite  duration. 
But  the  eternal  life  which  he  himself  lives  is  not  in  time 
at  all.  For  when  he  was  phenomenally  subject  to  time 
he  fixed  his  mind  on  God  as  All  in  All,  and  recognised 
The  true  that  his  true  self  was  a  finite  Mode  of  God.  Now  in  God 
ness  of  "  there  is  no  past  nor  future.  Therefore  Spinoza  thought 
of  himself  under  the  aspect  of  eternity  as  a  finite  Mode 
of  God,  and  thus  having  neither  beginning  nor  end. 
Not  only  so ;  but  from  the  bewilderment  occasioned  by 

1  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  thinks  the  apparent  inconsistency  may  be 
explained  by  the  assumption  that  Spinoza  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  two  grades  in  the  life  of  reason — the  one  '  a  practical  standard  .  .  . 
attainable  by  ordinary  men,'  the  other  a  higher  life  of  strenuous 
thought  and  'contemplative  science.'  The  suggestion  is  amply  justi- 
fied by  the  analogy  of  similar  grades  in  the  great  religions.  But  I 
venture  to  think  that  if  Spinoza  had  intended  this  he  would  have 
expressed  it  more  plainly.  For  it  would  obviously  have  facilitated  the 
acceptance  of  his  ideas,  as  similar  concessions  to  the  practical  and 
social  dilliculties  of  'ordinary  men  '  quickened  the  spread  of  Buddhism 
and  Christianity.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  above  analogy  with 
a  similar  inconsistency  in  the  Gospel  fits  in  better  with  the  whole 
scheme  of  the  Ethics. 


conscious- 
ness of 
eternal  life. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  239 

successive  experiences  of  parts  only  of  the  divine  Whole 
he   sought    relief    in    a   vision   of    the    Infinite    Living 
Universe,  within  which  everything  has  its  serviceable 
place,  and  in  which  all  discords  are  reduced  to  harmony. 
Even  his  intellect  was  baffled  by  the  insoluble  problem 
of  the  Many  and  the  One.     But  in  his  view  the  best 
approximation  man  can  make  to  a  vision  of  the  co-exist- 
ence of  innumerable  parts  in  one  perfect  eternal  Whole 
is  the  conception  of  inevitable  sequence.     That  is  to  say,  importance 
we  cannot  image  the  Infinite  as  it  is,  in  what  we  may  doctrine  of 
call  its  eternal  moment  of  being.     Yet  we  are  sure  that  if  sequence0 
we  could  in  vision  see  it  as  it  is,  we  should  recognise  that 
every  part  is  necessary  to  all  the  rest,  and  could  not 
be   otherwise   than   it  is — without  changing  the  whole 
Universe — that  is,  the  eternal  and  changeless.     But  this 
is  just  what  the  doctrine  of  inevitable  sequence  teaches  as  mediat- 

i        ,i  P   .  •  mi  i        ing between 

under  the  aspect  of  time.     I  hat  is,  it  instructs  us  that  the  eternal 
though  the  necessities  of  our  finite  nature  compel  us  to  temporal. 
see  things  under  the  aspect  of   time,  or  as  subject  to 
succession,  we  are  not  on  that  account  justified  in  deny- 
ing the  fixity  of  relationship  which  all  parts  of  the  Whole 
must   have   under    the   aspect   of    eternity.      Spinoza's  Spinoza's      \y 
eternal  life,  therefore,  is  a  consciousness  o.Lhimself  as  a 
finite  Mode  of  God,  and  of  the  Universe  as  an  infinity  of 
divine  Modes,  all  together  constituting  absolute  perfec- 
tion.1   Into  this  consciousness  no  thought  of  death  enters. 
In  his  contemplations  all  things,  past,  present,  and  to  come, 
work  together  for  good,  that  is,  are  essential  elements  in 

1  Not,  of  course,  in  the  sense  of  B  finished  work,  but  in  the  sense  of 
such  absolute  eoncinnity,  that  an  infinite  intellect — if  the  term  he 
allowed— would  realise  the  impossibility,  or  rather  the  inconceivability, 
of  any  smallest  part  being  other  than  it  is. 


240  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

the  perfect  Whole!  And  the  change  from  the  illusion 
of  succession  to  the  reality  of  co-existence  cannot  pos- 
sibly make  him  'cease  to  be.'  Therefore  there  is  no 
disturbance  of  his  serenity ;  but  being  conscious  of  God 
and  the  world  with  a  sense  of  eternal  necessity,  he  for 
ever  enjoys  contentment  of  soul. 

The  (morally)  ignorant  man,  the  slave  of  blind  desire, 
is  not  so.  For  knowing  nothing  of  his  true  relations  to 
things  as  they  are,  he  has  no  consciousness  of  his  true 
self — as  a  Mode  of  God — no  realisation  of  the  apparent 
The  fate  world  as  God-manifest.  And  though  we  are  not  to  forget 
slavery.  that  the  ignorant  man's  body  and  soul  have  *  an  aspect 
of  eternity,'  he  is  not  aware  of  it.  He  has  no  power  to 
'lay  hold  on  eternal  life.'  His  notion  of  existence  is 
gratification  of  a  perpetual  craving,  a  craving  only  aggra- 
vated by  attempts  to  stay  it.  And  for  him,  when  craving 
ceases,  existence  ceases  too.  True,  this  'inadequate 
cause/  the  (morally)  ignorant  man,  is  in  God.  But  his 
idea  of  himself  is  inadequate  because  he  is  not  content 
with  the  divine  idea  of  himself,  but  confuses  it  with 
other  things  which  do  not  belong  to  it.1  He  therefore 
mars  it,  and  can  have  no  conscious  part  in  the  eternal 
life  of  God.  Thus  the  difference  between  the  free  man 
and  the  slave  of  blind  desire  is  not  a  matter  of  external 
destiny  in  heaven  or  hell.  It  is  rather  a  subjective 
difference,  inasmuch  as  the  former  is  conscious  of  eternal 
life  and  the  other  is  not. 

'  The  Eternal  hnoweth  the  way  of  the  righteous  ;  but  the 
way  of  the  ungodly  shall  perish.' 
1  Prop,  xi.,  Pb.  ii. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  241 


CONCLUSION 

The   liberalism   of  present-day   theology  and   what   we  Changes  in 
may  call  the  mystical  tendencies  of  contemporary  science  0f  thought 
indicate  enormous  changes  in  the  world  of  thought  since  Spinoza's 
the  seventeenth  century.     And  those  to  whom  Spinoza  day# 
is  not  merely  a  philosopher,  but  a  seer,  can  hardly  help 
asking  themselves  as  they  lay  down  his  Ethics,  how  far 
those  changes  have  made  possible,  or  may  in  the  near 
future  make  possible,  a  wider  human  reverence  for  his 
great  vision  of  God.     Of  course  there  is  no  question  here 
of  the  adoption  or  propagation  of  a  religion  in  the  ecclesi- 
astical sense.     For  that  Shechinah  is  the  emblem  of  no  d0  they 
sect.     It  is  rather  the  infinite  background,   '  dark  with  S^mty6 
excess   of   light,'   from   which   all   faiths   of  the   world of  wid^r 

°      '  apprecia- 

emercre.      Nor   does   reverence   for   that   vision  of  God  {JS?.  ofothe 

°  m  Ethics? 

necessarily  involve  an  entire  rejection  of  historic  re- 
ligions. Indeed,  long  before  Spinoza's  day  many  a  devout 
Christian  has,  in  the  innermost  shrine  of  his  soul,  cher- 
ished a  Weltanschauung  impossible  to  distinguish  from 
Pantheism.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  any  forced  and  obstinate  adhesion  to  any  fragment- 
ary article  of  faith  which  has  lost  its  hold  on  a  man's 
reason  must  needs  incapacitate  that  man  from  appreciat- 
ing the  larger  faith.  '  Truth  in  the  inward  parts/  a  pos- 
session which  makes  merely  self-willed  belief  impossible, 
is  essential  to  the  realisation  of  Spinoza's  vision  of  God.     Relations 

ofSpmozas 

The   question   asked    above,   then,   amounts    to   this,  doctrine  of 
Putting   aside   subsidiary    details   of    definition    and   of  man  to 
method,  are  there  any  signs  that  the  world  is  nearer  than  thought. 

Q 


242  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

it  was  in  Spinoza's  day  to  his  essential  doctrines  of  God 

and  man  ?     I  think  the  question  may  fairly  be  answered 

I-         in   the   affirmative.     For,  first,  the   mystery  of   matter, 

Spiritual  . 

tendencies   which  is  now  more  widely  recognised  than  ever  before  in  all 
theacknow-  the  history  of  thought,  has  obviously  a  certain  spiritual 
myftery  of  suggestiveness  which  points  in  the  direction  of  Spinoza's 
Substance  One  and  Eternal.     For  instance,  contemporary 
science   has   made   Dalton's   atomic   theory  utterly  un- 
tenable, except,  of  course,  so  far  as  concerns  its  doctrine 
of  definitely  proportional  combinations.     But  though  this 
latter  part  of  the  doctrine  is  unassailed,  the  explanation 
of  it  by  the  hypothesis  of  ultimate  and  indestructible 
atoms  has  been  practically  abandoned.     For  these  atoms 
have  been  dissolved  away  into  something  indistinguish- 
Practicaire-  able  from  Boscovich's  c  centres  of  force.'     The  latter  most 

currence  to 

Boscovich's  original   thinker    knew   nothing,  indeed,   of  '  electrons.' 

of  force.      But  the  substitution  of  that  mystic  word  for  his  centres 

of  force  is  rather  a  change  of  terms  than  of  theory.     The 

believers  in  the  finality  of  the  new  views  of  matter  may 

indeed   rejoin   with   some    plausibility   that    the    above 

substitution  is  more  than  a  mere  change  of  terms,  because 

the  action  of  the  presumed  electric  force  in  the  infini- 

Facilities     tesimal   vortices   formed  of   electrons   is  calculable  and 

tionCand  *'  verifiable,  which   could   hardly  be   said   of   Boscovich's 

dornhotatl°n  vague  '  centres  of  force.'     But  why  not  ?     Boscovich  was 

ass°ure  they  a  great  mathematician  in  addition  to  his  other  scientific 

fandamen-  attainments.     And  it  is  incredible  that  he  should  have 

tal  truth  oi 

the  work-    propounded  a  theory  which  he  did  not  see  his  way  to 
thesis  on     maintain  on  mathematical  principles.     Indeed  the  pre- 

which  they  ±  x  r 

are  based,    sumed '  force '  without  the  epithet  electric  at  each  infini- 
tesimal centre   into  which  Boscovich  dissolved  matter 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  243 

away,  was  just  as  much  subject  to  measurement  and 
verification  as  it  is  with  the  epithet  added  to  it.  Nor 
should  it  be  forgotten  that  one  main  attraction  of  John 
Dalton's  theory  was  the  facility  and  apparent  complete- 
ness with  which  it  lent  itself  to  measurement,  calculation, 
and  verification.  Yet  all  the  same,  we  now  know  that 
the  fundamental  truth,  which  makes  these  calculations 
and  verifications  possible,  must  be  something  very 
different  from  Dalton's  idea  of  hard,  indestructible  atoms. 

We  are  now  asked  to  recognise,  as  the  really  ultimate  New  work- 
constituent  of  matter,  an  infinitesimal  vortex  formed  in  thesis, 
the  ether  by  enormous  electric  force.  But  experience  of 
vanished  finalities  surely  justifies  a  healthy  scepticism 
even  in  regard  to  such  brilliant  and  fascinating  theories 
as  this.  For  the  only  term  which  is  knowable  to  us  in 
this  new  theory,  or  which  belongs  to  what  Spinoza  calls 
'  common  notions ' — that  is,  the  common  stock  of  human 
experience — is  '  vortex/  a  thing  that  can  at  any  time  be  The  vortex, 
exhibited  on  a  large  scale  by  any  popular  lecturer  on 
science,  or  even  by  a  skilful  smoker  of  tobacco.  Yet 
even  though  the  thing  signified  by  the  word  be  thus 
producible  on  what,  comparatively,  may  be  called  a 
gigantic  scale,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  these  complex 
revolving  rings,  with  no  stability  and  but  momentary 
continuity,  can  help  much  to  make  conceivable  the 
infinitesimal  vortices  in  the  ether  whose  prerogative  it  is 
to  simulate,  for  an  indefinite  period  and  in  many  cases 
for  icons,  the  supposed  indestructible  atom  of  Democritus, 
Lucretius,  and  Dalton. 

But  beyond  that  word  '  vortex '  there  is  no  single  term 
in  the  newest  theories  of  matter  that  presents  any  clear 


244  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

Ether.  image  whatever  to  the  mind.  For  as  to  the  '  ether,'  no 
one,  however  learnedly  he  may  be  able  to  calculate  its 
1  stresses '  or  '  tensions/  and  its  undulations  or  vibrations, 
can  pretend  to  have  the  remotest  conception  of  what  it 
is.  And  the  mere  fact  that  certain  working  hypotheses 
about  its  properties  have  been  found  to  accord  with 
mathematical  calculations  about  the  movements  and 
action  of  light  and  electricity,  proves  nothing  whatever 
as  to  the  fundamental  essence  of  the  thing  itself.  For, 
as  already  noted,  Dalton's  working  hypothesis  about 
atoms  seemed  for  many  years  to  be  amply  verified  by  the 
uniform  results  of  physical  and  mathematical  research 
into  chemical  combinations.  And  yet  we  now  know 
that  there  are  no  such  things  at  all  as  indestructible, 
indivisible,  unchangeable  atoms,  and  that  the  laws  of 
chemical  combination  must  depend  upon  something  else. 

Electricity.  Then  again,  Electricity,  which  plays  so  large  a  part  in 
the  latest  theories  of  Matter,  is  just  as  unknowable  as 
the  Ether.  Scientific  men  can  indeed  measure  its  force, 
calculate  its  action,  and  harness  it  to  engines.  But  there 
is  scarcely  a  teacher  of  its  mysteries  who  does  not  begin 
his  lessons  with  a  warning  to  his  students  that,  however 
much  they  may  learn  about  electricity,  they  must  not 
expect  to  know  what  it  is. 

The  bearing      Under  these  circumstances  it  would  be  unreasonable 

mystery  of  to  ask  us  to  allow  that  the  new  theories  of  Matter  have 
reached — or  have  any  prospect  of  reaching — finality.  For 
if  the  seemingly  solid  atom,  for  ages  the  stronghold  of 
materialistic  science,  has  been  found  to  be  a  bewildering 
whirl  of  swift  electrons,  who  is  to  guarantee  us  that  the 
electron  itself  will  not  reveal  some  time   a   still  inner 


THE  FEEEDOM  OF  MAN  245 

world  of  forces  yet  unnamed  ?  To  assume  the  impossi- 
bility of  this  would  be  as  irrational  as  the  hope  sometimes 
cherished  in  bygone  days  that  some  impossible  increase 
of  microscopic  power  would  discover  the  innermost  core 
of  matter,  whether  atom  or  otherwise,  and  so  make  it 
obvious  to  sense.  Whereas  experience,  according  to  the 
witness  of  science,  lends  no  encouragement  whatever  to 
such  hopes.  For  we  only  know  that  the  more  the 
powers  of  the  microscope  have  been  increased,  the  more 
perfectly  continuous  and  the  more  exquisite  in  refinement 
are  organic  tissues  made  to  appear.  Nor  do  inorganic 
sections  or  granules  give  any  encouragement  whatever  to 
the  hope  that  a  step  has  been  made  toward  unveiling  the 
ultimate  constituent  parts. 

The  truth  is  that  the  most  recent  theories  of  Matter,  Modem 
so  far  from  giving  us  a  sense  of  finality  by  clearness  of  matter  not 
definition,  rather  open  up  unexpected  vistas  of  specula-  S^TraS.76 
tion.     And  far  in  the  perspective  of  these  vistas  is  the  sestlve- 
revelation  of  a  Universe  at  once  material,  spiritual,  and 
divine,  such   as  fascinated  Spinoza.     For  he  was  not  a 
dreamer  who   dissolved   away  the   material  world   into 
fancies  of  the  mind.     Nor  could  he  tolerate  the  harsh 
dualism  which  makes  'Mind5  and  'Matter'  essentially 
alien  to  each  other  and  wholly  incommensurable.     To\ 
him  they  were  different  forms  of  the  same  divine  Beingknd  the 
and,  together  with  other   endless  modes   of  unrevealedy>inttothe 
infinite    Attributes,   constitute    the    Universe.     But    od 
such  questions  argument  is  out  of  place  except  to  prove 
tendencies  of  thought  or  probabilities  of  future  advance. 
And  so  far  as  this  limited  purpose  is  concerned,  I  believe 
I  have  shown  some  reasons  for  thinking  that  most  recent 


>pmoza. 


246 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


II. 

The  idea  of 

creation 

discredited. 


Theory  of 

universal 

death 

through 

loss  of 

heat. 


Not  a 

certain 

conclusion. 


theories  of  Matter  point  to  a  conception  of  the  material 
Universe  such  as  may  easily  in  the  future  merge  in  that 
of  Spinoza. 

Secondly,  it  is  impossible  to  disguise  the  fact  that 
where  theories  of  a  Creation,  and  of  a  Creator  entirely 
separate  therefrom,  are  still  held,  they  are  either  un- 
willingly accepted  on  account  of  certain  now  discredited 
doctrines  of  catastrophe  and  ruin  leading  to  the  final 
death  of  all  worlds  and  thereby  implying  the  birth  of  the 
Universe  in  time ;  or  else  they  are  tolerated  through  an 
amiable  desire  to  reassure  the  fears  of  the  multitude  for 
the  mythology  the  latter  hold  so  dear. 

Now  as  to  the  former  notion  of  a  Universe  gradually 
aggregating  itself  into  a  huge,  congealed  sphere,  its  very 
grotesqueness  always  repelled  reverence  even  where 
knowledge  was  lacking  to  show  its  fallacy.  Surely 
where  the  scale  is  infinite,  no  mortal  man  should  presume 
to  propound  such  a  theory  merely  because  a  few  orbs 
have  apparently  collided,  or  because  the  existence  of 
innumerable  dark  orbs  seems  probable.  The  supposed 
inevitable  process  of  congelation  alternating  with  vapour- 
isation caused  by  new  collisions  on  a  continually  growing 
scale  until  there  shall  be  left  only  one  inconceivably  vast 
frozen  orb,  may  quite  fairly  be  regarded  as  a  nightmare 
of  mortal  ignorance,  rather  than  as  the  conclusion  of 
inexorable  logic.1 

1  I  have  quoted  elsewhere  scientific  authority  for  this  opinion 
{Religion  of  the  Universe,  p.  129,  etc.),  and  it  would  be  out  of  place  to 
repeat  here  what  has  been  there  said.  It  may  suffice  here  to  refer  to 
Sir  Norman  Lockyer's  suggested  cycle  of  star  life,  and  to  the  interest- 
ing theory  of  'shearing'  collisions  propounded  by  Professor  Bickerton 
of  Now  Zealand.  Quite  recently  also  Professor  Robert  K.  Duncan  of 
Jetferson  College,  U.S.A.,  in  his  work  The  New  Knowledge  (London, 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  247 

But  granted  that  no  one,  not  even  the  most  competent 
and  learned  of  our  instructors,  can  yet  speak  with  any 
absolute  certainty  upon  ultimate  questions  concerning 
the  material  Universe,  surely  here  is  an  opportunity  for 
loyalty  to  that  instinct  of  faith  of  which  theologians 
have  been  loud  in  praise.  Why  may  not  those  of  us 
whose  souls  are  repelled  by  the  grotesque  theory  of  a 
dying  Universe  take  advantage  of  the  recent  doctrine  of 
*  the  will  to  believe  '  ?  I  am  aware  that  this  doctrine  The  will  to 
has  been  formulated  and  maintained  in  the  interest  of 
the  curious  temporary  reaction  which  has  of  late  inclined 
many  learned,  philosophic,  and  scientific  men  to  return 
to  the  mythology  of  the  early  Christian  centuries.  But 
that  doctrine  is  a  two-edged  weapon.  For  if  some  have 
an  emotional  propension  toward  a  religious  system  of  a 
personal  Creator,  personal  Providence,  revelation,  incarna- 
tion and  miracles  related  thereto,  why  may  not  others 
have  an  emotional  propension  to  a  system  that  loyally 
takes  things  as  they  are,  and  excludes  alike  a  beginning 
and  an  end  ?  Why  may  we  not  feel  an  emotional  pro- 
pension  toward  a  faith  that  admits  only  one  Being 
manifested  by  infinite  Attributes,  such  as  are  subject  to 
infinite  modifications  all  keeping  an  eternal  and  un- 
broken order  ?  Surely  the  vision  of  the  Universe  is  not 
less,  but  more  impressive,  not  less  but  more  divine,  if 
we  regard  it  as  in  its  totality  immune  from  all  processes 
of  manufacture  or  decay,  as  being  in  itself  both  substance 
and  life ;  and  as  offering  for  study  neither  origins  nor 

Hodder  and  Stoughton,  1900)  has  given  in  Part  vn.,  Chap,  iii.,  a  very 
judicial  statement  of  the  position  of  this  question.  In  his  summing- 
up  he  regards  the  eternity  of  the  Universe  as  the  conclusion  more 
acceptable  'to  most  people  of  scientific  training.' 


248  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

ends,   but   only   the    actual    relations   of    its   apparent 
parts. 
The  real  Indeed  there  is  only  one  worthy  reason  to  be  given 

motive  of  J  J  ° 

temporary  for  the  favour  at  present  accorded  by  men  of  intellect 
to  'the  will  to  believe'  the  old  mythology,  and  this 
reason  is  involved  in  the  inveterate  tradition  that  the 
interests  of  morality  and  of  the  higher  or  spiritual  life 

Fear  for      are  bound  up  with  that  belief.     But  to  adhere  to  tradi- 

the  founda-    . 

tion  of        tion  on  such  a  subject,  to  the  neglect  or  a  human  ex- 

'       perience  which  far  outranges  that  tradition,  is  scarcely 

reasonable.     We  must  admit  indeed  that,  by  the  very 

nature  of  religious  evolution  out  of  Animism  through 

Polytheism  and  Henotheism  to  Monotheism  with  an  out- 

a  fear  not    look  toward  Pantheism,  it  has  been  inevitable  that  the 

anywideby  greater  number  of  lofty  and  saintly  characters  should 

human  °f     nave  been   found   among  those    who    have    striven    to 

experience.  expan(j  an(j  exalt  and  refine  the  idea  of  a  personal  God 

and  of  His  varied  dealings  with  mankind.     Inevitable, 

I  say,  because  that  was  precisely  the  stage  of  evolution 

at  which  it  became  possible  for  the  spiritual  nature  of 

man  to  disengage  itself,  at  least  in  part,  from  the  coarse 

influences  of  Animism  and  Fetishism.     But  on  the  other 

hand,   there   are    two   noteworthy   facts   of  world-wide 

religious   evolution   which   distinctly  forbid   any  hasty 

judgment  in  favour  of  the  exclusive  claims  of  the  Judseo- 

Christian  tradition  to  the  guardianship  of  morality.    For, 

first,  this  process  of  moral  and  spiritual  refinement  went 

Pagan         on   aniongst   so-called   '  Pagans '   such,  for   example,  as 

saints.  °  . 

Socrates,  Plato,  Seneca,  Tacitus,  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  a 
countless  multitude  of  others  forgotten  or  unforgotten. 
And,  secondly,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  wide- 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  249 

spread  of  all  religious  revivals,  that  of  the  Buddha, 
without  denying  any  theories  of  deity,  simply  ignored 
them  as  entirely  irrelevant  to  moral  issues.  But  in 
all  these  cases  alike,  high  moral  aspiration  and  'the 
enthusiasm  of  humanity'  were  found  quite  compatible 
with  entire  ignorance  of,  or  else  complete  indifference 
to,  the  creeds  of  Moses  and  the  Church. 

As  for  the  claims  of  Pantheism  to  be  the  ultimate 
religion,  those  have  been  largely  the  subject  of  the 
preceding  Handbook,  and  cannot  be  repeated  here.  My 
point  now  is  simply  that  the  acknowledgment  of  those 
claims  has  been  delayed,  not  so  much  by  Eeason  as  by 
the  preoccupation  of  even  the  most  thoughtful  minds 
with  the  essential  necessity  to  morality  of  belief  in 
Creation,  a  personal  God,  and  man's  personal  immor- 
tality. Take  away  this  supposed  necessity,  which  the 
widest  survey  of  human  experience  contradicts,  and  the 
inherent  unworthiness,  incongruity,  and  absurdity  of  the 
theory  of  an  ojrifex  deus,  making,  minding,  and  mending 
the  world,  becomes  patent,  glaring,  and  repulsive. 

That  there  is  at  any  rate  a  current  of  feeling  and  Signs  of  a 

growing 

opinion  tending  toward  a  recognition  of  this  incongruity  repulsion  to 
is  made  probable  and  even  apparent  by  the  extremely  miracle, 
vague  and  indefinite  form  in  which  the  doctrine  of 
Creation  and  a  personal  God  is  held,  even  under  the 
influence  of  '  the  will  to  believe.'  For  it  has  little,  if 
anything  at  all,  in  common  with  the  definite  Chalda?o- 
Hebrew  cosmogony  received  of  old  and,  until  our  own 
early  days,  held  by  the  Christian  Church.  And  no 
wonder  ;  because,  to  the  compilers  of  the  Bible  cosmogony, 
the  Universe  lay  within  so  small  a  compass,  as  compared 


250  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

with  the  outlook  of  modern  knowledge,  that  the  analogy 
between  a  human  builder  of  a  palace  or  city  and  a 
celestial  builder  of  heaven  and  earth  did  not  seem  at 
all  impossible  or  even  difficult  of  conception.  Indeed 
the  analogy  is  carried  so  far  that  the  celestial  craftsman 
is  described  as  doing  his  work  in  successive  stages,  his 
superior  might  being  indicated  by  the  swiftness  with 
which  each  stage  is  accomplished,  as  they  occupy  only 
one  day  each.  But  the  anthropomorphic  analogy  involved 
in  this  progress  by  diurnal  stages  is  too  obvious  for  denial. 
It  is  not  characteristic  of  omniscience  and  omnipotence 
which,  presumably,  could  just  as  easily  have  made  in 
one  moment  heaven  and  earth  and  all  that  in  them  is. 
But  the  reminiscence  of  the  human  workman  was  too 
strong ;  and  therefore  the  work  was  done  by  stages.1 
Superiority  True,  this  mythical  story,  which  in  its  present  form 
Hebrew  is  certainly  a  late  document,  and  adapted  to  a  more 
cultured  age  than  that  of  the  original  Chaldee  or 
Sumerian  myth,  does  not  presume  to  ascribe  to  Jahweh 
the  use  of  tools  or  instruments,  or  even  the  application 
of  hands 2  to  the  work.  With  a  sublimity  generally  and 
deservedly  recognised,  the  narrative  makes  the  word  of 
God  the  sufficient  means  for  separating  the  light  from 
the  darkness,  for  dividing  the  '  firmament '  from  the 
ocean,  for  establishing  the  bounds  of  sea  and  land,  as 

1  Any  attempt  to  see  in  the  creation  days  a  forecast  of  evolution  is 
surely  a  harsh  and  incongruous  insult  to  the  simplicity  of  the  ancient 
tale. 

2  In  other  parts  of  the  Old  Testament,  however— mostly  in  parts 
older  than  the  Priestly  Code — creation  is  often  spoken  of  as  the  work 
of  God's  hands.  See  Isa.  xlv.  12 ;  Ps.  viii.  6 ;  xcv.  5 ;  cv.  25 ;  Job 
x.  8,  etc.  etc. 


narrative. 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  251 

well  as  for  all  the  other  processes  that  culminated  in 
the  creation  of  man  after  God's  own  image.  The  whole 
story  regarded  as  a  poetic  myth  has  a  grandeur  which 
gives  it  a  high  place  in  the  literature  of  religion. 

But  when  we  contrast  this  tale  from  the  childhood  Feebleness 
of  the  world  with  the  vague,  indefinite,  and  inarticulate  attempts  at 

■n  ,.  j.  -j.-  u        •    •         rationalism. 

allusions  to  creation  in  recent  writing  on  world-origins, 
the  change  is  like  that  from  a  child's  fairy  tale  to  a 
preacher's  feeble  attempts  to  moralise  it.  There  is  no 
real  relation  between  the  two  things.  The  conception — 
if  such  it  can  be  called — which  unreasoning  tradition 
would  impose  upon  modern  knowledge  is  wholly  in- 
congruous with  the  latter.  For  the  stupendous  and 
infinitely  varied  Universe,  to  which  no  bounds  have  been 
or  can  be  set,  is  really  incommensurable  with  the  two- 
or  three-storied  structure  that  constituted  the  Chaldseo- 
Hebrew  world.  Let  us  for  a  moment  imagine  that  our 
knowledge  of  the  material  Universe  had  attained  its 
present  extent  before  the  Chaldseo-Hebrew  tradition  had  % 
been  made  known  to  Western  races.  Suppose  that  the 
poem  of  creation  had  been  recited  for  the  first  time  by 
Eastern  missionaries  to  London,  New  York,  Paris,  and 
Berlin  audiences  familiar  with  the  nebular  hypothesis 
and  with  the  theories  of  the  Milky  Way  and  with 
ball  led  efforts  to  count  the  stars,  and  with  probabilities 
of  innumerable  repetitions  of  planetary  systems  like  our 
own.  Can  any  one  sincerely  doubt  for  a  moment  how 
such  a  message  must  have  been  received  by  even  the 
most  devout  and  religious  hearers  ?  No  candid  or 
impressionable  soul  could  have  denied  its  charm,  but 
the  notion  of  accepting  it  as,  in  any  sense  whatever,  a 


252  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

reasonable  account  of  the  actual  origin  of  the  world 
would  not  even  have  occurred  to  the  hearers.  Of  course 
I  may  be  told  that,  even  though  the  story  is  with  us 
a  venerable  tradition,  no  intelligent  believer  thinks  of 
accepting  it  literally.  Then  why  accept  it  at  all  ?  Only 
because  it  gives  a  religious  sanction  to  the  dogma  of 
creation  in  some  sense,  which  dogma  is  supposed  to  be 
essential  to  the  most  important  articles  of  the  creed — 
a  personal  God,  the  Fall  of  Man,  Incarnation,  Atone- 
ment, and  human  Immortality. 
Hheori<Sn  0n  tnis  subJect  many  minds  are  in  the  same  position 
of  species.'  ag  aimost  all  were  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  species 
before  the  epoch-making  utterances  of  Darwin  and 
Wallace.  For  it  was  then  thought  essential  to  religion 
to  believe  that  each  species  was  the  product  of  a  special 
creative  act.  Yet  such  a  faith  was  utterly  vague,  in- 
articulate, and  incapable  of  distinct  presentment.  For 
any  pious  but  candid  man  who  tried  to  picture  to 
himself  the  objective  actuality  of  such  creation  found 
himself  involved  in  absurdities.  To  maintain  in  general 
terms  that  each  species  was  the  result  of  a  creative  act 
seemed  easy  enough.  But  to  picture  to  oneself  either 
the  sudden  starting  into  existence  of  a  whale  or  an 
elephant,  or  the  building  up  of  such  huge  bodies  by  a 
divine  worker  out  of  surrounding  materials,  was  an  im- 
possible effort.  And  perhaps  one  of  the  greatest  spiritual 
blessings  conferred  by  Darwin's  Origin  of  Species  upon 
mankind  was  its  deliverance  of  us  from  the  conventional 
necessity  of  pretending  to  believe  what,  in  the  'sub- 
conscious '  region  of  the  mind,  was  recognised  as  absurd. 
Yet  even  greater  will  be  the  emancipation  when  man- 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  MAN  253 

kind  finally  renounce  the  hopeless  attempt  to  conceive  Relief  from 

J  r  x  the  dogma 

any  act  of  creation  at  all,  and  acquiesce  in  the  truth  of  creation, 
preached  by  Heaven  and  Earth   that,   amid  unceasing, 
finite  change,  there  is  one  infinite,  changeless  Universe, 
without  beginning  and  without  end.     In  proportion  as 
this  truth  is  recognised,  the  world  will  need  Spinoza. 

For  in  effect  the  surrender  of  the  idea  of  creation  means     in. 

Taking 

that  we  take  things  as  they  are,  and  that  we  cease  from  things  as 

, .    .  -,  ,.  they  are. 

curious  and  vain  inquiries  into  origins  ana  endings. 
Now  this  is  precisely  what  Spinoza  teaches,  though  the 
plainness  of  his  doctrine  is  at  first  obscured  to  the 
student  by  the  profundity  and  subtlety  of  his  analysis 
of  things  as  they  are.  Thus,  when  we  are  confronted 
with  ideas  of  eternal  Substance  and  its  Attributes  and 
their  modifications,  we  are  almost  disposed  to  mistake  all 
this  for  a  new  theory  of  creation.  But  of  course  nothing 
could  be  farther  from  the  mind  of  the  Master.  For  he  is 
only  telling  how,  according  to  Spinoza's  judgment,  the 
rational  man  should  think  of  things  as  they  are.  There 
has  never  been  a  birth  of  a  Universe ;  there  is  no 
1  design ' ;  there  is  no  '  plan  '  with  a  beginning  and  an 
end.  On  the  infinite  scale — which  means  on  the  scale 
of  all  that  is — things  are  as  they  always  have  been  and 
always  will  be.  For  the  finite  changes  that  attract  our 
interest  so  much  do  not  affect  this  eternal  sameness  any 
more  than  a  summer  ripple  affects  '  the  stillness  of  the 
central  sea.' 

But  it  is  precisely  on  our  attitude  toward  these  finite  The  practi- 
changes,  of  which  our  own  existence  forms  a  part,  that  of  the 
Spinoza's  teaching  is  at  once  most  interesting  and  prac- 
tical.    For  while  not  drawing  upon  our  '  will  to  believe,' 


254  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

he  fixes  our  attention  and  excites  our  aspiration  by  dis- 
playing the  glory  of  our  spontaneity  as  parts  of  the 
universal  divine  life.  He  shows  us  that,  by  making  our 
finite  life  an  effort  for  the  preservation  of  our  highest  self 
as  a  manifestation  of  God,  and  by  defending  this  sacred 
domain  against  the  inroads  of  passion  begotten  by 
inadequate  ideas,  we  may  attain  a  peace  which  the  world 
of  greed  and  pleasure  cannot  give  and  cannot  take 
away. 

In  other  words,  this  contemplative  knowledge  of  all 
things  as  in  God  and  of  God  gives  the  utter  restfulness 
of  self-abnegation  and  of  faith.  But  it  is  not  a  self- 
abnegation  without  effort,  and  not  a  faith  without  self- 
Conditions  control.  The  heart  aching  under  bereavement,  the  pure 
peace.  aspirant  baffled  by  failure,  the  lover  of  man  haunted  by 
the  black  terrors  of  human  history — all  at  first  seek 
impossible  restoration  or  unattainable  compensation,  or 
logical  explanations  fitting  in  with  imperfect  knowledge. 
And  only  when  all  such  consolations  fail,  as  fail  they 
must,  save  so  far  as  they  soothe  us  with  opiates  of  deceit, 
then  perhaps  recurs  the  harsh  but  healing  question  asked 
of  complaining  sorrow  long  ago — '  Should  it  be  according 
to  thy  mind  ? '  Was  this  unsearchable  maze  of  infinite 
movements  co-ordinated  and  balanced  to  give  you  plea- 
sure ?  or  is  the  glory  of  man  its  ultimate  goal  ?  It  has  no 
goal  at  all.  Or  if  our  human  craving  for  purpose  cannot 
be  restrained  within  its  proper  sphere,  but  insists  on  a 
purpose  for  the  Infinite  as  well  as  the  finite,  then  we  say 
that  the  self-existence  of  the  divine  Universe  is  purpose 
enough.  On  the  infinite  scale  it  is  now,  as  it  always  was, 
and  always  will  be.     It  is  only  the  finite  modes  of  divine 


THE  FKEEDOM  OF  MAN  255 

Attributes  that  show  apparent  change,  and  in  them  are 
comprehended  all  the  phases  of  human  experience. 
Within  those  limits  effort  and  hope  and  unselfish  ambi- 
tion have  their  scope,  scintillating  with  finite  manifesta- 
tions of  God.  There  always  has  been  and  there  always 
will  be  enough  of  joy  in  human  experience  to  make  life, 
on  the  whole,  a  delight. 

To  embitter  our  souls  about  the  darker  phases  of  life  Embitter- 

.  merit  comes 

concerning  which,  as  Spinoza  teaches,  we  have  only  of  inade- 
1  inadequate  ideas/  is  the  reverse  of  self-abnegation  and 
the  abandonment  of  self-control.  It  is  therefore  the 
betrayal  of  faith.  But  it  is  the  supreme  virtue  and 
valour  of  the  mind  to  see  all  things,  whether  to  us 
grievous  or  joyous,  as  necessary  and  inevitable  phases  of 
one  eternal  Being.  And  though  it  may  not  be  given  to 
all  to  attain  this — at  least  not  for  many  generations  to 
come — yet  those  who  do  attain  it  and  realise  their  own 
place  in  the  divine  Whole  reach,  as  the  Master  says,  the 
highest  perfection  possible  to  human  nature ;  and  therein 
lies  their  heaven.  I  must  iterate  and  reiterate  that  no 
fatalism,  still  less  any  acquiescence  in  pessimism,  is  here  No  fatalism, 
taught.  Spontaneity,  or  Will,  effort  and  struggle  and 
hope  and  fear  are  all  incidental  to  human  nature  in  this 
as  much  as  in  any  other  system  of  ethics.  But  none  of 
these  can  break  or  derange  the  order  of  inevitable  sequence 
in  finite  existence.  And  when  all  is  done  that  we  can 
do,  when  much  is  left  that  we  cannot  do,  while  we  have 
many  things  to  enjoy  and  much  to  suffer,  the  conscious- 
ness that  we  are  parts  of  the  Eternal  Life  and  do  nothing 
in  vain,  does  bring  peace.  Indeed,  to  this  final  rest  in 
things  as  they  are  on  the  infinite  scale,  many  inspired 


256  ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 

words  of  prophecy  or  poetry  are  more  applicable  than  to 
any  trust  in  a  supernatural  Person  who  differs  from  our- 
selves only  in  might  and  degree  of  quality  rather  than  in 
kind.  The  craving  for  a  God  who  will  do — in  the  future 
if  not  now — just  what  we  want  to  have  done,  has  often 
produced  him,  as  it  produced  the  golden  calves.  But 
when  produced  he  is  so  incongruous  with  the  order 
of  Nature  and  the  course  of  evolution  or  history,  and 
indeed  with  everything  but  just  the  private  service  we 
want  from  him  as  men,  or  even  as  sectaries  or  patriots, 
that  faith  in  him  always  feels  the  gnawing  of  criticism 
and  doubt,  rarely  attains  peace,  and  never  eternal 
rest. 

1  There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Kough-hew  them  how  we  will.' 

The  true         This  is  surely  more  credible  of  a  God  who  is  all  that 

that  shapes  is,  has  been,  or  will  be,  than  of  a  separate  being  who 

our  eu  s.     ^^  ma^es  a  wori(j  and  then  has  to  mind  it  and  mend 

it.      And  the   true   prophets,  inspired   of   old    by   the 

Eternal  Life,  often  uttered  words  of  which  the  full  scope 

needed  the   illumination  of   a  larger   creed   than  their 

Noblest      traditions  allowed.     '  The  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 

ofancien?8  understanding'  must   certainly  be   transcendental,   and 

receive*?7   cannot  be  a  mere   assurance  of   a  reward   after  death. 

pretationu1  Surely  the  peace  which  comes  of  acquiescence  in  our  own 

place  in  the  Eternal   Life  seems  better  to  answer  the 

description.     Or  take  the  Hebrew  prophet's  words, '  Thou 

wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  mind  is  stayed  on 

thee,  because  he  trusteth  in  thee.'     However  profoundly 

and  justly  our  sympathies  may  be  touched  by  such  an 

approximation   to   ultimate   religion,  the   conditions  of 


THE  FKEEDOM  OF  MAX  257 

entire  realisation  were  wanting  in  a  monotheism  which 
worshipped  only  the  greatest  personal  being  among  all 
others.  For  that  realisation  requires  not  only  an  impreg- 
nable, but  a  self-evident  rest  for  faith;  such  a  rest  can 
only  be  found  by  a  merging  of  all  things  in  a  unity  of 
substance  and  energy  ensuring  perpetual  order  in  finite 
things,  and  perfection  beyond  all  thought  in  the  infinite 
Whole. 

Now  this  is  just  what  Spinoza  teaches.     For  we  already  Conclusion 

J  r  J  of  the  whole 

saw  in  our  study  of  the  First  Part  of  the  Ethics  that  the  matter. 
fact  of  our  present  existence  necessarily  involves  eternal 
being,  in  and  by  which  we  are  what  we  are.  The  denial 
of  this  is  really  unthinkable,  and  all  apparent  denials  are 
only  dissents  from  this  or  that  interpretation  of  the 
impregnable  fact.  But  if  we  have  followed  this  Master 
in  his  lessons  on  the  blessedness  of  referring  all  things  to 
God  and  of  finding  in  Him  the  infinite  complement  of 
our  fragmentary  life,  we  may  dare  to  claim  for  faith  a 
rest  such  as  even  Isaiah  did  not  know.  Nay,  the  con- 
nection between  the  absolute  trust  and  the  '  perfect 
peace '  has  a  rationality  which  it  could  not  have  in  tradi- 
tional religion.  For  between  trust  in  dim,  incongruous 
visions  of  a  transfigured  tribal  deity,  and  rest  in  the 
substance  of  all  that  is,  there  is  all  the  difference 
separating  even  the  noblest  superstition  from  devout 
reason. 


THE    END 


INDEX 


Absolute  and  relative  truth,  31. 
Abstract — Spinoza's  use  of  term,  30. 
Accident,  as  'Act  of  God,'  44. 
Action,  meaning  of,  171. 

contrary  in  same  subject,  188. 

good,    dependent    on    Reason, 

172. 

joy  in,  106. 

moral  quality  of,  164. 

Actuality,  Spencer's,  9. 

Adam,  Fall  of,  167. 

Adequate.     See  Cause,  Idea. 

Affability,  123,  177. 

Affections — in  Spinoza's  sense,  54  n., 

83. 

all  from  three  primaries,  98. 

definitions  of,  109-126. 

limited  by  cause,  189. 

Agnosticism,  188. 

Agur  rebukes  Pessimists,  84. 

Ambition,  123,  177. 

Anger,  122. 

Annihilation,    contrary    to    Nature, 

97. 
Anthropomorphism,  41,  131,  133. 
Anthropopithecus,  20. 
Appetite — a  form  of  Desire,  97. 
Arnold,  M.,21. 
Association,  moral  force  of,  63,  99, 

105,  201. 
Assur,  94. 
Astonishment,  112. 
Atheism,  impossible  to  Spinoza,  50. 
Atoms,  65,  242. 
Attributes,  8,  13. 

innumerable,  17,  25. 

not  additions  to  Substance,  24, 

33. 


Attributes.     See  also  '  Pollock. ' 
Augury,  origin  of,  105. 
Augustine,  St.,  131,  214. 
Avarice,  124. 
Aversion,  114. 

Babe's  progress,  55-6,  194. 

Babism  ~  106,  145  n. 

Baseness,  154. 

Beauty,  47. 

Benevolence,  122. 

Bets  on  unknown  certainties,  76. 

Bickerton,  Professor,  246  n. 

Biology,  61. 

Bitterness,  116. 

Blessedness,  81,  235. 

Bodily  mobility  and  Mind,  61. 

Body,  human,  52. 

as  divine  idea,  216. 

object  of  Mind,  53-4. 

servant  of  higher  life,  226-7. 

Boldness,  123. 
Bondage,  meaning  of,  127-8. 
Boscovich,  242. 

Buddhist  ritual,  effect  on  Catholics, 
100. 

Catholicity  of  Pantheism,  213-14, 

248. 
Cause,  adequate,  90. 

as  sum  of  conditions,  34. 

inadequate,  90-1. 

intermediate  or  secondary,  35  n. 

no  final,  130-1. 

Spin*  >z;i's  idea  of,  obsolete,  35, 56. 

<  'ell,  living,  133. 
Chance,  76,  85. 

See  Contingency. 

259 


2G0 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Charles  i.,  103-4. 
Cheerfulness,  158. 
Chemical  combination,  65. 
Childhood,   influence    of  its  beliefs, 

204-5. 
Clifford,  Professor,  19,  20,  55,  58. 
Cogitatio,  meaning  of,  17. 

wider  than  consciousness,  18. 

Coleridge,  20. 

Ancient  Mariner,  213. 

Colour,  16. 
Commiseration,  116. 
Common  notions,  63,  200-1. 
Confidence,  115. 
Consciousness,  18  et  seq.,  58. 
Consternation,  123. 
Contempt,  113. 
Contingency,  67,  76,  138. 
Contrat  social,  155  to. 
Cosmogony,  Bible,  249-50. 

cannot  be  rationalised,  251. 

Courtesy,  123. 
Cowardice,  123. 
Creation,  50,  246,  249. 
Crime,  156-7. 
Cruelty,  122. 

of  Nature,  alleged,  42,  84. 

Crystal,  133. 

Custom  and  morals,  118. 

Cyclopsean  masonry,  136. 

Dalton,  John,  242-3. 

Darwin,  Origin,  etc.,  252. 

David's  sin,  72. 

Dead  worlds,  246. 

Death   affects  only  finite  relations, 

226. 

not  to  be  thought  of,  167. 

not  feared  by  Reason,  225-8. 

Depreciation,  117.     See  Self-. 

Derision,  114. 

Descartes,  17,  181  n. 

Design  in  Nature,  fallacy  of,  41,  46, 

132. 
Desire,  97,  110,  163,  171. 
cause     of    anthropomorphism, 

181. 
no  test  of  truth,  205. 


Desire,  use  of,  136. 

when  active,  171. 

passive,  171. 

Despair,  115. 

Devotion,  114. 

Dipsomaniac,  the,  141. 

Disease,  135. 

Division,  in  what  sense  possible,  29. 

of  substance  impossible,  29. 

Dogberry,  194. 

Drunkard,  his  delusion  and  salvation, 

191. 
Drunkenness.     See  Inebriety. 
Duncan,  Professor  R.  K.,  246  n. 

Ecclesiastes  quoted,  34. 

Education,  effects  of,  118. 

Effort,  place  of,  137-8,  141,  143. 

Electricity,  244. 

Elsmere,  Robert,  188. 

Emulation,  121. 

Entities  of  fancy,  48. 

Envy,  117. 

Eoliths,  128. 

Equanimity,  81. 

Essence  {essentia),  13,  14. 

Eternal  life,  59,  78,  79,  216,  218,  238. 

morals,  156  n. 

Eternity,  25,  78,  35,  216. 
Ether,  the,  244. 

'  Ethics '  —  anachronism      of     form, 
2. 

how  far  in  essence  permanent,  3. 

how  far  original,  2. 

meaning  of,  4. 

special  difficulties  of,  1-4. 

written  for  after-time,  1. 

Euclid  and  his  critics,  11. 

Evil,  in  what  sense  an  illusion,  135. 

knowledge  of,  166-7. 

See  Good. 

Evolution,  85. 

unknown  to  Spinoza,  52. 

Extension  as  Attribute,  14,  52-3. 

Falsehood,  71. 
Fatalism,  194,  255. 
Favour,  116. 


INDEX 


261 


Fear,  100,  115,  188. 
Ferocity,  122. 
Fetishism,  106,  248. 
Fiual  causes.     See  Cause. 
Finite  existence,  32-4,  50,  57. 

illusion  inseparable  from,  133. 

neither  independent  nor  eternal, 

6. 
mode  implies  infinite  Attribute, 

16-17. 
movement  and  infinite  rest,  34, 

254. 
Flattery,  176. 
Food,  doctrine  of,  178. 
Form,  16. 
Fortitude,  169. 
Freedom,  37,  40,  89,  104,  138,  168, 

169,  181  etseq. 
and  Peace,  239-40. 

Gladness,  116. 

Glorying,  120. 

God,  adequate  knowledge  of,  78. 

all  that  is  or  can  be,  25.  — 

as  necessary  Being,  17.   — 

as  Substance,  8,  56. 

hatred  of,  impossible,  210-11. 

idea  of,  associated  with  every- 
thing, 202,  207. 

identified  with  Universe,  6. 

in  creature  life,  183. 

love  of  and  to.     See  Love. 

man    not    final    cause    of    His 

action,  41,  254. 

not  subject  to  desire,  43.    ■ 

peace  of,  219,  224,  254. 

perfection  of,  43. 

Spinoza's  proof  of,  paraphrased, 

6  et  seq. 

reverence  for,   destroys  hatred, 

159-60. 

transcends  consciousness,  18. 

but  not  the  Universe,  23. 

God-consciousness,  188,  207,  228. 

Golf-passion,  189-90. 

Good  and  evil— relative,  40,  45,  46, 
47,  88,  128,  135,  166,  172. 

Good,  meaning  of,  135,  166. 


Good,   to  be  thought  of  more  than 

evil,  199. 
Good-nature,  117. 
Goodness  is  blessedness,  230,  etc. 
Gratitude,  122,  160. 
Gravitation,  65. 
Grief,  97,  111,  137,  157. 

Harlotry,  176. 

Hatred,  98,  114,  158. 

Hauser,  Kaspar,  61. 

Heaven  and  Hell,  70,  182. 

Henry  vm.,  150. 

Hermits,  error  of,  174-5. 

Home,    power   of    its    associations. 

202. 
Honour,  sense  of,  154. 
Hope,  100,  115,  158. 
Humility,  118,  160-1. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  187. 

I  am— as  divine  name,  130. 
Idea,  54. 

adequate,  66,  70. 

clear,    moral   power    of,     192, 

197. 

distinct  or  confused,  200,  201. 

inadequate,  66,  70,  71,  133. 

Ideals,  human,  129. 
Idolatry,  origin  of,  78-9. 

modern,  183  n. 

persistence  of,  79. 

Ignorance,   no  foundation  for  faith, 

42,  44. 
difference  of,  from  recognition  of 

Unknowable,  44  n. 
Inclination,  114. 
Indignation,  116,  160,  177. 
Inebriety,  124. 

Imagination  depreciated,  229. 
Immortality,  215. 
Intuition,  63-4,  67-8. 
in     Weltanschauung,    218-19, 

221. 
Intellect,  31,  229. 

to  rule  the  affections,  197. 

its  perfection,  172. 

Intellectual  love.     See  Love. 


262 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Jahweh,  130. 

Jesus,  teacher  of  goodness  for  its  own 

sake,  230. 
Joy,  97,  111,  157. 

power  of,  143,  144-5,  179. 

Judas  Iscariot,  139. 

Just  and  unjust  as  terms  of  relation, 

157. 

Kaaba,  106. 
Kepler,  165. 
Kingdom  of  God,  145. 
Knowledge,  doctrine  of,  63. 

and  feeling,  143. 

adequate,  excludes  evil,  159-60. 

Law,  37  n. 
Lear,  King,  184-6. 
Lockyer,  Sir  Norman,  246. 
Love,  98,  110,  113. 

selfish,  113. 

sensual,  158. 

to  God  (intellectual),  187,  206  et 

seq.,  221,223,224. 

of  God  to  man,  212,  213. 

Loyalty,  social,  154. 
Lucretius,  106. 
Lust,  124. 
Luxuriousness,  124. 

Man,  a  finite  Mode,  etc.,  52. 

chief  end  of,  172. 

dependent  on  man,  148. 

proper  place  of,  88,  96. 

not  outside  Nature,  84, 163,  173. 

not  separate  from  God,  69. 

when  an  inadequate  cause,  91. 

Many  and  the  One,  239. 
Marriage,  176. 

royal  and  religion,  203. 

Mathematics,  use  of,  42. 
Materialism  falsely  imputed,  14. 

decay  of,  21. 

Matter,  and  Mind,  10. 

mystery  of,  242  et  seq. 

Maurice,  P.  D.,218. 
Maxims,  use  of,  188. 
Mercy,  122. 


Milton,  106,  207,  210. 
Mind,  human,  a  finite  Mode  of  an  in- 
finite Attribute,  52,  55. 
as  idea  of  the  Body,  54. 

benefited    by    things  external, 

148. 

its  joy  in  activity,  106-7. 

knowledge  of  itself,  59. 

quickened  by  mobility  of  body 

61. 

1  Mind-stuff,'  19,  55. 

Miser,  192. 

Modes  of  Attributes,  15  et  seq. ,  33. 

Molecular  mechanics,  21. 

Money,  use  and  abuse  of,  179. 

Monotheism,  dangers  of,  69,  131. 

why  prolific  in  saints,  248. 

Moral  incentives  and  deterrents,  45  n. , 
91  n. 

Morality,  evolved  out  of  finite  rela- 
tions, 157  n.,  234. 

not  weakened  by  Spinoza,  49, 

89,  156  n. 

in  what  sense  eternal,  156  n. 

Mountain  mass,  illustration  from,  31. 
Music  of  the  spheres,  47. 

Natura  Naturans,  36-7. 

Naturata,  36-7. 

Natural  selection,  132. 
Nature,  imperfections  alleged  in,  48, 
129  et  seq.,  162. 

critics  of,  84,  87. 

no  vice  in,  88. 

state  of,  154,  156-7. 

'  Object,'  Spinoza's  use  of,  54. 

implies  subject,  21-2. 

Origin,  meaning  of,  52. 
Over-estimation,  117. 

Pain,  135. 

Parmenides,  86. 

Passions,  apparently  active  but  really 

passive,  184. 
compulsory  abstinence  does  not 

exorcise,  124. 
general  nature  of,  125. 


INDEX 


263 


Passions,  how  controlled  and  cast  out, 
188-9,  191. 

reduced  by  clear  ideas,  192. 

Passivity,  140. 

Paul,  St.,  69,  70  n.,  183,  195,  223. 

on  Freedom  anticipates  Spinoza, 

184. 

but  not  on  eternal  life,  231. 

Peace,  perfect,  219,  224. 

Penitence,  160. 

Perfection,  128-9,  132,  136,  138, 
229. 

Persistence  of  impressions,  62. 

removed  by  stronger  impres- 
sions, 62. 

Personality,  29,  30. 

Pessimism  and  supernaturalism,  70. 

Piety  defined,  154. 

Pineal  gland,  181  n. 

Pity,  dangers  of,  159-60. 

Pollock,  Sir  Frederick,  26-8  n.}  30, 
53,  74,  236,  238  n. 

Poor,  properly  the  care  of  the  State, 
175-6. 

Praise,  ethical  use  of,  45  n. 

Pride,  119,  161. 

Prophets,  as  practical  moralists,  161. 

Protozoa,  57-8. 

Providence,  44. 

Purpose,  as  modus  cogitandi,  132. 

Pusillanimity,  162. 

Reaction,  religious,  248. 
Reality,  14  ;  degrees  of,  126,  133. 
Reason,  nature  of,  164. 

the  practical,  146-7, 153. 

and  virtue,  150,  154. 

as  loyalty  to  the  best,  153-4. 

triumph  of,  180. 

Reasoned  experience,  65. 
Reformation,  Protestant,  146. 
Relativity  of  morals,  40,  45. 
Religion  defined,  154. 

future  of,  211  et  seq^^ 

mercenary,  232. 

Religious  conviction,  moral  inlluence 

of,  62. 
Repentance,  118,  161. 


Reproach,  not  useless,  45  n. 
Republic  of  Man,  145. 

Salvation,  plan  of,  185  et  seq. 

Satan,  Milton's,  210. 

Scepticism,  47. 

Schivarmerei,  117. 

Science  not  irreligious,  45. 

mysticism  of,  214,  241. 

points  to  no  finality,  215. 

Self-conceit,  159. 

Self-contempt,  159. 

Self-depreciation,  120,  161. 

akin  to  pride,  176. 

Self-preservation,  97,  138,  141,  147-9, 
173. 

right  of  society  to,  156. 

Self-satisfaction,  118. 

Seneca,  149. 

Sentiment,  dangers  of,  160. 

Sequence,  invariable,  193. 

not  fatalism,  194-5,  255. 

moral  use  of,  195. 

not  inconsistent  with  moral  influ- 
ence, 196. 

mediates  between  eternity  and 

time,  239. 

Shakespeare,  184,  187. 

Shame,  120. 

Sin,  45. 

Social  order,  bond  of,  81,  155. 

life  essential  to  man,  148,  169, 

173,  174, 175. 

Socrates,  94,  139,  230. 

Sorrow.     See  Grief. 

Soul,  52. 

Sound,  16. 

Species,  51. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  8,  9, 11,  24,  59,  61, 
74. 

Spinoza,    his    experience,    135,    143, 
208-9. 

how  far  Agnostic,  67. 

influenced  by  Descartes,  17. 

not  a  'fatalist,'  194-5. 

not  founder  of  a  sect,  205. 

•  not  '  materialist,'  14,  215. 

Spontaneity,  90,  181-2. 


264 


ETHICS  OF  SPINOZA 


Substance,  8,  10,  12. 
Succession,  a  necessary  illusion,  217. 
Suffering,  use  of,  136,  143. 
Suicide,  147. 

Tennyson,  lb' ».,  33,  55,  79, 182,  197, 

218. 
Tertullian,  214. 
Thankfulness,  122. 
Thing  in  itself,  24. 
Thought,  as  Attribute,  17  ct  seq. 
Time.     See  Eternity. 
Timidity,  123. 
Tolerance,  81. 

'Transcendency.'    See  God. 
Truth,  absolute  and  relative,  31. 

but  not  two  sorts,  189. 

and  bias,  203. 

and  falsehood,  71. 

clear  consciousness  of,  73-4. 

Types  in  Nature  and  Art,  129. 

Ugliness,  47. 
Unity,  ultimate,  60. 
Universe.     See  God. 


Universe,  perfection  of,  43. 

self-awareness  of,  21. 

under  aspect  of  eternity,  78. 

Unknowable,  the,  8,  9,  11,  42,  59-60. 

Vacillation,  100. 
Vainglory,  163. 
Vengeance,  122. 
Verification,  test  of  reality,  14. 
Virtue  and  power,  139. 

not  mercenary,  81,  149,  232, 235. 

Vortex  theory  of  Matter,  243. 

Weight,  16. 
Wesley,  214. 
Will,  73,  79-80,  97. 

as  affirmation,  80. 

See  also  Freedom. 

'Will  to  believe,' 204,  247. 

Witchcraft,  66. 

Worship,  primitive  purpose  of,  41. 

Xenophanes,  86. 

Yearning,  121. 


Primed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 
;it  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

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